Eric Cartman (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} beefcake_cop) wrote,@ 2007-07-04 16:31:00 |
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Last Of the Timey Wimey Lords
The music was playing loudly, as the figure in swirling black turned and danced with glee. His shining black helmet gave him a terrifying visage, and the guards standing around stayed close to the wall, out of his range. He reached inside the tent, and pulled out the tiny, wrinkled old creature who just looked at him with sad, haunted eyes.
“Tell me, Doctor, what do you think of my achievements? My Death Star stands, ready and waiting to launch my final destruction of this planet you seem to love so dearly.” He lifted him up, sticking him into a nice little birdcage for safe keeping. “I tawt I taw a puddy tat! I did, I did taw a puddy tat!”
“Destroy the Earth, you will not.” The voice was unreal, a mix of Dagobah and something…Northern. “Out there, they are fighting. Win they will, I tell you.”
Just then, the guards came in, and the leader saluted to the man in black. “Master Vader, sir, we have located two of the prisoners. All of the men and servants, and even the Doctor, snickered a little at that name.
“Excellent. Bring them to me. And fetch Captain Harkness. My final triumph over my fellow Timey Wimey Lord must have witnesses, so that he can squeal like a little girl.”
“Yes, Master Vader.” More hidden smirks, as the men march out.
Soon, six of them return, and they are dragging a blonde woman between them. Dressed in a tiny, metal plated bikini, with sheer green veils as a skirt, and her hair up in elaborate coils, Rose Tyler stares at the green creature in the cage. “Doc…Doctor? Is that really you?”
“Rose. My Rose. Safe from him, I thought.” His pointy ears drooped in disappointment and sorrow. “Master Vader, do what to her, do you? Humiliation is not the way of the Timey Wimey Lords!”
The Master Vader stopped polishing his helmet in the bowling ball machine. “Well, actually…” He leaped up to sit on the long table. “…it kind of is. Did you ever see pictures of your other regenerations? Not pretty. But I can’t take credit for your lovely Rose’s outfit. She works at Torchwood.”
The Doctor turned his gaze up from her metal encased breasts, and into her big, brown eyes…no…those eyes. Rose nodded. “On that alternate universe, Torchwood is both a defender of the planet agency and a strip club. I monitor alien life between lap dances.”
Just then, several men march in, floating a large, grey carbonite casing of a man between them. Master Vader stood and danced in effeminate glee as they stood it up. Pushing the controls, he backed away as the pure carbon casing began to melt, and Jack’s face became more and more flesh. “Ah, yes, Captain Jack Harkness, future Face of Solo.”
Jack fell forward, sweating and pale, shaking from carbon sickness and a bit of hypervodka still not slept off while he was in there. Rose caught him, and he happily snuggled his head between her bosoms, much to the Doctor’s displeasure.
“Oh, Jack…what did they do? Look at you! You sick, twisted monster!” Rose shouted at Master Vader, who merely shrugged.
“I had nothing to do with that. Captain Harkness got bored with being tied up and whipped, and he asked us to do that. Said it gave him a head rush.” Master Vader smirked happily. His evil plan was coming together nicely.
Rose ignored the man, snuggling and crooning softly to Jack, before kissing him gently. “I love you.”
“I know.” Captain Harkness nodded, with a grin. “I love me, too.”
Just then a man came running into the room. "Master Vader, Master Vader!"
"Oh, what is it now?" He sighed and looked at the underling.
"He's here...a ship has landed. He's here. He demands to see you, my master."
"Tell him he doesn't have an appointment. Come back later."
A short, black robed figure entered the room. The underling looked from one to the other. "He MUST be allowed to speak, Master Vader."
"He's using an old Jedi mind trick on you, you fool!"
The short newcomer lifted the hood of his robe, and spoke in a way that commanded the attention of everyone in the room. "GODDAMMIT! Where the hell is my DADDY?"
"Eric! Eric the half-Jedi-half-Timey Wimey Lord! My son!" The Doctor's creased face showed his relief, as well as his concern that his beloved boy was in danger.
"THIS...lump? This is the last of the last of the last of the Timey Wimey Lords? And a Jedi one at that?" Master Vader would have been more amused, if he weren't so annoyed. "It matters not, Doctor, for my evil plan is about to begin. Does anyone have a stopwatch?"
"Damn, if my teaboy weren't touring with the London company of 'La Cage a Faux'..." Jack looked almost contrite. Almost.
"I didn't come alone, Master Vader. I brought help." Cartman was remaining calm, his Jedi cool unflappable.
"Eric, NO! You can't expose your sister!" The Doctor shouted in terror, but it was too late. A woman burst into the room in white robes, the gown of a senator with the hood draped over her bun hairdo.
"This is your sister?" Master Vader looked from Eric to the black woman with the horrid hairdo.
"No, you twit. I'm A SISTER. As in the first black woman companion. But do I get any respect? Do I get this bloke to shed a tear? Did I get to shag Shakespeare? Well...actually, I did. But besides that? I've been traipsing all over the planet for the last year, telling the story of the Doctor to every stinking person I could find. And you're going to lose!" Martha pointed at Master Vader in fury.
"Calm down, bitch! No one's going to replace you! You're every bit as popular and loved as Rose over here." Eric, the Master and everyone else in the room burst out laughing. "Sorry...sorry...just couldn't pull that one off. Anyway, start your fucking countdown, asshole!"
"Errr, Eric, this is a family show, so language we must watch. Profanity leads to anger, anger leads to letters. Letters lead to cancellation." The Doctor pointed one long finger at the boy.
"Right, right, I fucking forgot. It's Torchwood that gets the good shit. Oh, well...where were we? Oh, yeah, the final countdown. Get on with it, dickweed."
Dramatically, Master Vader swings his arm, and the clock on the wall starts counting down. They all stand there, as the seconds pass, bored. Waiting. Waiting.
Finally Master Vader turns to Martha and asks, conversationally, "So, anyway, what were you doing, you know, on your travels?"
"Oh, right. Well, I was telling everyone the story of the Doctor, and Eric told me that they all needed to have one unified thought, at exactly the right moment."
"No..." Master Vader backed away, as the Doctor's face brightened. "NO!"
All of a sudden, millions of voices rang out. From every corner of the Earth, they all said just one word. One word of faith in the Doctor. One word, with one belief. One uniting concept.
Martha strained to hear. "Did they say it? I can't hear!"
"Pull those buns off your ears. They said it."
Master Vader stared in horror at the screens. "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
The sound of the voices filled the room. "Bananas...bananas...bananas..."
"Bananas?" Rose looked down at Jack.
Jack shook his head. "This shit is bananas?"
"B-A-N-A-N-A-S!" Cartman turned to the Doctor, and a beam of light descended from the ceiling to the cage, which melted and it was blinding. Everyone hid their eyes against the strong flashes of super banana yellow lights. When it stopped, and it was over, the Doctor stood before them, tapping one high heel.
"Holy shit, dude! That's not our Doctor!" Eric screamed in very un-Jedi like horror. "This is going to warp my innocent little mind!"
"What? What? WHAT?" The Doctor looked down, horrified.
"Oh, sorry...that's the twelfth regeneration, isn't it? My bad." Martha pulled out the Doctor's sonic screwdriver, and pointed it towards him. In no time, he was back to his old Tenth self again, much to Jack's bitter disappointment. That'll teach them to cancel her contract, though.
Master Vader tried to run. But the banana peel on the floor slowed him down, and Cartman used his Jedi-Timey-Wimey-Lord powers to fling Cheesy Poofs at him, one lodging nastily in his nose. He crumpled to the floor, and the Doctor took him in his arms.
"C'mon...regenerate! It's just a little junk food. You can do this!" The tears. The angst. The creases around his eyes that were similar to the ones before. Cartman hoped that shit wasn't genetically woven.
"My next incarnation...is...as...Jim...Carrey..."
"Right, well, I can understand that. Oh, did you tell Eric?" The Doctor held his dying lover, and sniffled nicely.
"What? What the fuck?" Cartman waddled over, staring down at the dying Timey Wimey Lord.
"Eric...I...am...your...mother..." The Master drew one long, last breath, and died.
"WHAT THE FUCK?" Everyone turned to look at the Doctor, who sadly rose to face his son.
"Well, you see, things got a bit slashy on Gallifrey and some weaving was done when we were all stoned, so a bit of m-preg and well...that's the story. So, anyway. Earth is saved. Things are great. Let's go for daiquiris." The Doctor headed out, with the group behind him.
Much later, the Doctor and Eric stood in front of the tall pyre, watching the third to the last of the Timey Wimey Lords go up like a Roman candle. The sorrow was heavy. The somber mood unbroken. Wes Janson stood nearby, and he watched as father and son put their arms on each other's shoulders and knees, and Eric finally spoke.
"So, uh, Dad...got any hot dogs?"
"No, Eric."
"Marshmallows?"
"No."
"Let's blow this pop stand, have Wes drive us through In n Out."
"You're a very wise little Timey Wimey Lord, my son."
"Fuck yeah, I am."
The music was playing loudly, as the figure in swirling black turned and danced with glee. His shining black helmet gave him a terrifying visage, and the guards standing around stayed close to the wall, out of his range. He reached inside the tent, and pulled out the tiny, wrinkled old creature who just looked at him with sad, haunted eyes.
“Tell me, Doctor, what do you think of my achievements? My Death Star stands, ready and waiting to launch my final destruction of this planet you seem to love so dearly.” He lifted him up, sticking him into a nice little birdcage for safe keeping. “I tawt I taw a puddy tat! I did, I did taw a puddy tat!”
“Destroy the Earth, you will not.” The voice was unreal, a mix of Dagobah and something…Northern. “Out there, they are fighting. Win they will, I tell you.”
Just then, the guards came in, and the leader saluted to the man in black. “Master Vader, sir, we have located two of the prisoners. All of the men and servants, and even the Doctor, snickered a little at that name.
“Excellent. Bring them to me. And fetch Captain Harkness. My final triumph over my fellow Timey Wimey Lord must have witnesses, so that he can squeal like a little girl.”
“Yes, Master Vader.” More hidden smirks, as the men march out.
Soon, six of them return, and they are dragging a blonde woman between them. Dressed in a tiny, metal plated bikini, with sheer green veils as a skirt, and her hair up in elaborate coils, Rose Tyler stares at the green creature in the cage. “Doc…Doctor? Is that really you?”
“Rose. My Rose. Safe from him, I thought.” His pointy ears drooped in disappointment and sorrow. “Master Vader, do what to her, do you? Humiliation is not the way of the Timey Wimey Lords!”
The Master Vader stopped polishing his helmet in the bowling ball machine. “Well, actually…” He leaped up to sit on the long table. “…it kind of is. Did you ever see pictures of your other regenerations? Not pretty. But I can’t take credit for your lovely Rose’s outfit. She works at Torchwood.”
The Doctor turned his gaze up from her metal encased breasts, and into her big, brown eyes…no…those eyes. Rose nodded. “On that alternate universe, Torchwood is both a defender of the planet agency and a strip club. I monitor alien life between lap dances.”
Just then, several men march in, floating a large, grey carbonite casing of a man between them. Master Vader stood and danced in effeminate glee as they stood it up. Pushing the controls, he backed away as the pure carbon casing began to melt, and Jack’s face became more and more flesh. “Ah, yes, Captain Jack Harkness, future Face of Solo.”
Jack fell forward, sweating and pale, shaking from carbon sickness and a bit of hypervodka still not slept off while he was in there. Rose caught him, and he happily snuggled his head between her bosoms, much to the Doctor’s displeasure.
“Oh, Jack…what did they do? Look at you! You sick, twisted monster!” Rose shouted at Master Vader, who merely shrugged.
“I had nothing to do with that. Captain Harkness got bored with being tied up and whipped, and he asked us to do that. Said it gave him a head rush.” Master Vader smirked happily. His evil plan was coming together nicely.
Rose ignored the man, snuggling and crooning softly to Jack, before kissing him gently. “I love you.”
“I know.” Captain Harkness nodded, with a grin. “I love me, too.”
Just then a man came running into the room. "Master Vader, Master Vader!"
"Oh, what is it now?" He sighed and looked at the underling.
"He's here...a ship has landed. He's here. He demands to see you, my master."
"Tell him he doesn't have an appointment. Come back later."
A short, black robed figure entered the room. The underling looked from one to the other. "He MUST be allowed to speak, Master Vader."
"He's using an old Jedi mind trick on you, you fool!"
The short newcomer lifted the hood of his robe, and spoke in a way that commanded the attention of everyone in the room. "GODDAMMIT! Where the hell is my DADDY?"
"Eric! Eric the half-Jedi-half-Timey Wimey Lord! My son!" The Doctor's creased face showed his relief, as well as his concern that his beloved boy was in danger.
"THIS...lump? This is the last of the last of the last of the Timey Wimey Lords? And a Jedi one at that?" Master Vader would have been more amused, if he weren't so annoyed. "It matters not, Doctor, for my evil plan is about to begin. Does anyone have a stopwatch?"
"Damn, if my teaboy weren't touring with the London company of 'La Cage a Faux'..." Jack looked almost contrite. Almost.
"I didn't come alone, Master Vader. I brought help." Cartman was remaining calm, his Jedi cool unflappable.
"Eric, NO! You can't expose your sister!" The Doctor shouted in terror, but it was too late. A woman burst into the room in white robes, the gown of a senator with the hood draped over her bun hairdo.
"This is your sister?" Master Vader looked from Eric to the black woman with the horrid hairdo.
"No, you twit. I'm A SISTER. As in the first black woman companion. But do I get any respect? Do I get this bloke to shed a tear? Did I get to shag Shakespeare? Well...actually, I did. But besides that? I've been traipsing all over the planet for the last year, telling the story of the Doctor to every stinking person I could find. And you're going to lose!" Martha pointed at Master Vader in fury.
"Calm down, bitch! No one's going to replace you! You're every bit as popular and loved as Rose over here." Eric, the Master and everyone else in the room burst out laughing. "Sorry...sorry...just couldn't pull that one off. Anyway, start your fucking countdown, asshole!"
"Errr, Eric, this is a family show, so language we must watch. Profanity leads to anger, anger leads to letters. Letters lead to cancellation." The Doctor pointed one long finger at the boy.
"Right, right, I fucking forgot. It's Torchwood that gets the good shit. Oh, well...where were we? Oh, yeah, the final countdown. Get on with it, dickweed."
Dramatically, Master Vader swings his arm, and the clock on the wall starts counting down. They all stand there, as the seconds pass, bored. Waiting. Waiting.
Finally Master Vader turns to Martha and asks, conversationally, "So, anyway, what were you doing, you know, on your travels?"
"Oh, right. Well, I was telling everyone the story of the Doctor, and Eric told me that they all needed to have one unified thought, at exactly the right moment."
"No..." Master Vader backed away, as the Doctor's face brightened. "NO!"
All of a sudden, millions of voices rang out. From every corner of the Earth, they all said just one word. One word of faith in the Doctor. One word, with one belief. One uniting concept.
Martha strained to hear. "Did they say it? I can't hear!"
"Pull those buns off your ears. They said it."
Master Vader stared in horror at the screens. "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
The sound of the voices filled the room. "Bananas...bananas...bananas..."
"Bananas?" Rose looked down at Jack.
Jack shook his head. "This shit is bananas?"
"B-A-N-A-N-A-S!" Cartman turned to the Doctor, and a beam of light descended from the ceiling to the cage, which melted and it was blinding. Everyone hid their eyes against the strong flashes of super banana yellow lights. When it stopped, and it was over, the Doctor stood before them, tapping one high heel.
"Holy shit, dude! That's not our Doctor!" Eric screamed in very un-Jedi like horror. "This is going to warp my innocent little mind!"
"What? What? WHAT?" The Doctor looked down, horrified.
"Oh, sorry...that's the twelfth regeneration, isn't it? My bad." Martha pulled out the Doctor's sonic screwdriver, and pointed it towards him. In no time, he was back to his old Tenth self again, much to Jack's bitter disappointment. That'll teach them to cancel her contract, though.
Master Vader tried to run. But the banana peel on the floor slowed him down, and Cartman used his Jedi-Timey-Wimey-Lord powers to fling Cheesy Poofs at him, one lodging nastily in his nose. He crumpled to the floor, and the Doctor took him in his arms.
"C'mon...regenerate! It's just a little junk food. You can do this!" The tears. The angst. The creases around his eyes that were similar to the ones before. Cartman hoped that shit wasn't genetically woven.
"My next incarnation...is...as...Jim...Carrey..."
"Right, well, I can understand that. Oh, did you tell Eric?" The Doctor held his dying lover, and sniffled nicely.
"What? What the fuck?" Cartman waddled over, staring down at the dying Timey Wimey Lord.
"Eric...I...am...your...mother..." The Master drew one long, last breath, and died.
"WHAT THE FUCK?" Everyone turned to look at the Doctor, who sadly rose to face his son.
"Well, you see, things got a bit slashy on Gallifrey and some weaving was done when we were all stoned, so a bit of m-preg and well...that's the story. So, anyway. Earth is saved. Things are great. Let's go for daiquiris." The Doctor headed out, with the group behind him.
Much later, the Doctor and Eric stood in front of the tall pyre, watching the third to the last of the Timey Wimey Lords go up like a Roman candle. The sorrow was heavy. The somber mood unbroken. Wes Janson stood nearby, and he watched as father and son put their arms on each other's shoulders and knees, and Eric finally spoke.
"So, uh, Dad...got any hot dogs?"
"No, Eric."
"Marshmallows?"
"No."
"Let's blow this pop stand, have Wes drive us through In n Out."
"You're a very wise little Timey Wimey Lord, my son."
"Fuck yeah, I am."
