The Gallifreyan Academy of Fanfiction Academia
By Miss Hanna
A parody inspired by Miss Camilla Sandman.
"It's true Doctor," Said Yvette Alexandria Joanna-Lee Jones, foster-sister to Martha Jones, real name Yvettadventurelovearia, a sad, nearly bittersweet smile showcasing her sparkling white teeth. "I am the last Time Lady of Gallifray."
"I'm not alone anymore!" The Tenth Doctor breathed, his wide smile nowing no bounds.
"And we can be together traveling thru out time and space, the Doctor and his loyal companion."
The two Gallifrayans drew closer, arms wrapped around each other-
ERROR 112363. KEYBOARD LOCKED UNTIL LICENSE OBTAINED.
"What the hell?" Emily Dent swore. She tried pressing the power button. No result. The screen didn't even shut off. The battery and mouse seemed fine, it was just that her damn laptop refused to do anything.
She ran her hands through her mousy brown hair, trying not to freak out. It was only a rough draft, but it was the first solid idea she had had in months for a fan fiction. School had driven her crazy since her senior year had started, giving her little time to focus on her writing. She had to satisfy her reviewers! Admittedly, she only had about thirty or forty for her last story. Now there was this 'license' she had to get, whatever the hell that was. Maybe it was some Microsoft thing?
Emily groaned and closed her laptop. She had just got up from her chair to go to the kitchen and grab some cocoa when there was a sudden burst of noise behind her. It was the sound of electricity crackling. A blue light danced off the wall (being plastered with Doctor Who posters of course) like a light reflected onto water. She jumped and squealed, stupidly grabbing a pencil to defend herself with. As she whirled around, the man and woman who had mysteriously appeared in her bedroom started laughing.
She stared at them, quite unable to speak, stubby pencil held up in a manic pose The man was shorter and balding, giggling like a child as he leaned on the shoulder of the tall, Hispanic-looking woman next to him. They both wore blue suits with a small pin in the lapel, the polished silver letters spelling out GAFA.
"Oh, God, that was great." The man snorted. His British accent was the classic RP Emily had been trying, and miserably failing, to imitate in her spare time. Even when scared, she still felt jealous.
"Absolutely priceless. Miss Lily is going to love that when we see her."
The Hispanic woman grinned in a cat-like manner. "Priceless." She agreed, her New York accent surprisingly strong. She drew herself up suddenly and looked straight at Emily, her dark eyes suddenly hard.
"Okay then, I'm Bishop, this sniggering mess is Richards, and you, young lady, have royally pissed us off."
Emily just stared at the pair in shock and awe. How the hell had they gotten into her bedroom? Richards' left hand went up to scratch the shining patch of skin on his head. The sleeve of his jacket pulled back and a leather strap on his arm was visible. Emily recognized it immediately. Oh hell no, hell no, hell no. She was dreaming. That was it. She was hallucinating and had cracked from the stress, because there was no way in Gallifrey that there was a vortex manipulator on his wrist. Bishop continued to talk.
"Miss Emily Dent, you have been accepted at the Gallifreyan Academy of Fanfiction Academia, where hopeless writers of fanfiction and die-hard fangirls go to get rehabilitated- err, educated. As your computer screen suggests, you'll receive your license to write Doctor Who fanfiction upon graduating the Academy. Here's your enrollment forms, a campus map, a supply list, and a description of the curriculum you will be taking."
Bishop held out the forms to Emily. The teenager stared at her mutely, her mouth wide open. The hand with the pencil in it was still raised. Richards carefully removed the blunt instrument from her hand and his partner replaced the makeshift weapon with the paperwork.
"Well, we'll just lead you to your-" Bishop glanced around Who-themed bedroom, eyeing the poster of the Fifth Doctor with hearts drawn around his face in distaste. "-So-called life."
She gestured to Richards, who rolled back his sleeve (oh crap, it really was a vortex manipulator) and started inputting coordinates. He nodded at Bishop.
"All set." He shot a wicked smile at Emily. "See you at the start of term."
Bishop clapped her hand down on his wrist. There was a flash of blue light and the pair vanished with in a harsh crackle of electricity.
Emily's hand fell and the papers went crashing to the ground, flying every which way. Oh God, she was completely insane. She just hallucinated two people teleporting into her bedroom. And they gave her paperwork! On top of that damnable essay she had to do for English class!
She glanced at the papers. They had been in a folder, a folder that was such a sickening color she could barely stand to look at it. It was as if purple had a bastard half-sibling. She kicked gently at the folder and it slid under her bed.
The papers and forms were ridiculous in the extreme. The classes made zero sense to her. 'Sueology: Die, Sue, Die'? 'Critical Shipping and Pairing Studies'? 'The Cannon of Canon'? Nearly all of the classes had numbers where the instructors name should have been. The campus map seemed to have a banana grove next door to the Student Building. Now that was one reference she understood. In the center of the four buildings was an odd figure-eight-like symbol. The Seal-of-Something-Or-Another, if she had to take a guess. Oh, yeah, Rassilon. She picked a TARDIS blue form, surprisingly short for an university application:
The Official GAFA Enrollment Application
BASIC INFORMATION:
1. Full legal name:
2. Sex:
3. Age:
4. Height:
5. Eye color:
6. Natural hair color:
7. Current hair color:
8. Species:
10. Allergies:
CONTACT INFORMATION
11. Home phone:
12. Cell phone:
13. Email:
FANFICTION INFORMATION
14. Please indicate if you have written any of the following:
Slash, MPreg, OC, AU, Incest, Crossover, Self-Insert
15. Please indicate if you have drawn fanart: Yes/No
WHOVIAN INFORMATION
16. Favorite Doctor:
17. Favorite Companion:
18. Favorite Monster/Adversary:
19. Fears:
20. Chosen Side: Good/Neutral/Evil
21. Please indicate what you have seen/read of Doctor Who:
New Series, Classic Series, Doctor Who Audiobooks, Doctor Who Films
Doctor Who Books: Doctor Who novelizations, Eighth Doctor Adventures, Past Doctor Adventures, New Series Adventures
Spin-offs: Torchwood, Sarah Jane Adventures, K-9 and Company
Other (please explain)
"I, the Whovian, hereby attest to the legitimacy of the above information and understand that I shall not hold the Gallifreyan Academy of Fanfiction Academia responsible for any physical or psychological injury gained while enrolled. Any injury gained is a product of my own lack of foresight and general lack of intelligence. I also submit readily to the tropes and teaching methods known as 'Learning Through Pain', 'Training From Hell', and 'Comedic Sociopathy'."
Signature:
Emily didn't know what she was thinking, but she sat down with a pen and burned her way though the forms with relative ease. Twenty minutes later, she stacked the forms neatly on her desk beside her still frozen laptop. She sat on her bed, the blankets proudly boasting the image of an exploding TARDIS.
"I've cracked," She muttered to herself. "I've finally cracked."
She giggled insanely to herself and curled up her blankets, deciding to take a nap and pretend it never happened. Carry on, isn't that what the British did?
As she slept, she had no idea that the forms would disappear with a shudder and an electric zap, no idea that she would wake up in a new, astonishing, insanity-inducing reality.
x
Donna Temple-Noble, the official School Secretary of GAFA, marched down the corridor, heels clacking ominously against the marble tiled floor. Behind her was Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart and Adric, both following a little impatiently.
The Brigadier tapped his finger against the holster on his belt. "Miss Temple-Noble, why again did the Headmistress deem it necessary to hire another Class Coordinator?"
Donna glanced around her shoulder at the Brigadier. "The Doctors got a lot of fans running around the world, you'd be surprised. Incoming freshmen have already clocked in at over three hundred. By the way, it's Donna, Brigadier, none of that 'Miss' business." She waved her left hand near his face. "Not single anymore."
"Donna, why is that Earth women have to take their husbands' surname?" Adric asked curiously. "Is it to show ownership?"
Donna burst out laughing. "Ownership? Ha! More like to lull them into a false sense of security!"
The two men looked incredibly disturbed at this notion.
"Alright, here we are."
The three stopped in front of a large wooden door with a mail slot and a golden knob. It looked like the entrance to an Oxford professor's study. A silver plaque read, 'Deputy Headmistress' and below it in a smaller font, 'Class-Coordinator'. Donna knocked four times, then winced as she realized what she had just done. Good thing her Doctor wasn't here. He'd go bananas.
"Come in."
Donna pushed the door open with no hesitation. Inside was an expansive room with dark plum walls and a floor slathered with Turkish and Oriental rugs. A large window the height of the ceiling was across from the threshold. Three maroon armchairs sat in front a mahogany desk. The desk was covered in papers, an antique bottle-green desk lamp, and a brand new laptop with the Union Jack plastered across the top. The tall woman that stood behind the desk seemed to be engaged in conversation with someone sitting in the chair on her right.
"You're right, the pay is awful, but it's more like volunteer work to be honest." She was saying, her American accent clear, but not in an overwhelming manner. "But there's a lot of personal satisfaction involved, not to mention you'd be making the world a better place."
"How's it hurt our world, really?" A distinctly Southern voice said. "All I remember about fanfiction is the really detailed slash."
Miss Hanna (her name was emblazoned on a desk plaque, right next to a 'You Don't Have to Be Crazy to Work Here: We'll Train You' sign) winced. "Don't remind me. Those Hetalia fics still give me nightmares."
"You didn't seem to mind at the time-"
"-Brigadier!" Miss Hanna cried, giving a particularly nasty 'Speak-and-Die' look towards her companion. "Great to finally meet you!"
She came out from behind her desk to shake the Brigadier's hand. She was only a inch or two shorter than him, with wild, curly brown hair that would put a Yeti's to shame. He could make out distinct smudges on her black frame glasses and saw that her trainers were scuffed and well-used. Otherwise, she looked honest and professional in a black suit. She shook Adric's hand with a pleasant smile and turned to Donna, who smirked.
"Not the tea lady." She reminded her boss. "You can get your Earl Grey from someone else."
Miss Hanna raised an eyebrow at Donna, amused.
"Save that look for when term starts. I imagine quite a few students will automatically assume you're going to be their 'best mate'."
Donna shuddered, a look of true horror on her face.
"God forbid." She said, as exited the office as quickly as she had entered.
"Brigadier, Adric, might I introduce to you our new Assistant Course Coordinator?"
Another young woman stood. She was a good deal shorter and plumper, with dark hair in a boyish cut ending around her ears. She didn't seem as put together as Miss Hanna in her t-shirt and jeans combination. Her leather jacket was too large and her smile was a little crooked, but she seemed pleasant and respectful towards the two men. She stuck out her hand instantly to the Brigadier, her posture becoming military straight.
"Lily Kevins, and it's an honor to meet you, sir." She said. "I always liked the UNIT run of the show in the seventies. They had such clever story lines."
The Brigadier fought a sigh of relief. Finally, a proper fan and not a squealing, teary-eyed fangirl. Though to be fair, a lot of teenage girls these days barely knew who he was. Damnable New Series...
"Pleasure, Miss Lily." He replied.
In contrast, Miss Lily shook Adric's hand more hesitantly. Adric sighed.
"Yes, I know, I'm supposed to be dead. On the bright side though, I get one hell of an afterlife."
They sat in down the armchairs, the Brigadier taking the middle with Adric beside him, Miss Lily claiming her previous seat. She swung her legs over the arm of the chair, bringing attention to a pair of filthy cowboy boots. The Brigadier couldn't help but roll his eyes. Americans.
"So, Brigadier, how goes the security measures?"
He cleared his throat in a manner very befitting a military man. "All the mini-mats have been accounted for and the force field around the grounds has been secured and happily tested."
"Happily?"
"Seven informed RS-6 that there was a beauty salon just on the other side. She had apparently insulted his umbrella earlier. He was very pleased to see that she wasn't immune to six thousand volts."
Miss Hanna snorted. "Good riddance. Those 'flaxen locks with fuchsia streaks' always got on my nerves."
Miss Lily looked confused, mortified, and on the verge of laughter. It was a strange look to say the least.
"What the hell is an RS-6?"
"GAFA keeps a multitude of test subjects on hand for class demonstrations." Adric informed her. "RS-6 stands for 'Relationship Sue Number Six'."
"You keep Mary Sues? So you can torture and kill them?" Miss Lily's eyes were wide with disbelief. "Isn't that murder?"
Miss Hanna smirked. "Think of it as killing a mosquito that's carrying malaria: You feel a twinge of remorse, but then remember that they really don't have lives beyond being annoying and making people sick to their stomachs. As I said earlier, you're making the world a better place in the long run."
She looked a little consoled, but still apprehensive. "Still doesn't mean I'm all that comfortable. Also, I haven't technically agreed to the job, in case you haven't forgotten."
"I could get you that pirate sword you've always wanted. To fend off the occasional Sue and threaten the odd student."
She scoffed. "You think I can be bought with fancy accessories?"
"You'll look ever so awesome."
"..."
"I'll throw in an X-box for your quarters."
"Deal."
They shook on it. Miss Hanna turned to Adric. "And what about the incoming freshmen? Any hiccups or news to report?"
"No, ma'am. The teleportation chambers are all set. Though I have to ask," Adric paused, considering what he was going to say next. "Are all the soldiers really necessary?"
"Absolutely." The Brigadier replied.
"Adric," Miss Hanna said gently. "Have you ever seen a rabid fangirl?"
"No."
"Well I have and believe me when I say they're as dangerous as an escaped Sue with a key to Ten's room." She turned to the Brigadier.
"Have the force field turned down to around one milliamp. We want to teach the students, not kill them outright. Also, triple-check the Sue Zone. I don't want another escape like in July. Nine's quarters are next to mine and I can still hear the nightmares he's having. Oh, that reminds me, ask Strax to come up here. I saw him practicing his aim on straw student effigies after breakfast. I think he needs to be reminded that we're aiming for psychological torture, not the physical kind. Now if you'll excuse me gentlemen, Miss Lily and I need to go over her contract."
The Brigadier and Adric left, the door shutting soundly behind them. Miss Hanna pushed her desk chair over to a filing cabinet, pulled out a fat yellow sheaf of papers, and tossed the stack and a pen to her new colleague.
"Don't worry about reading it, it's not like you're selling your soul or anything. Just remember, maim fangirls, slay Sues. Also, you're going to be Head of the Detention Squad."
Miss Lily made a face. "Why?"
"Because," Her friend said with a sigh. "I considered putting one of the Doctors in charge, but that would just encourage students to misbehave if it was one of the better-looking doctors. Also, all of the Doctors have informed me that they have started a union."
"A… union?" The corners of Miss Lily's mouth turned up into a crooked, silly grin.
"Yeah, a union. I had to have their contracts revised after they told me. You have any idea how long Gallifreyan contracts are?"
"A small dictionary?"
"You're adorable. Now sign the damn papers, please."
"Yes ma'am." Miss Lily flipped through the pages, scanned the text diligently, signed her name in a small, tightly controlled scrawl.
"You know Lily, I think this is the start of a beautiful year."
"A beautiful year involving psychological torture and pirate swords?"
"Exactly."