ASPARAGUS TIPS
Neil Davies 2017
It began with an argument over the tardis scales. Surely too generous according to Mel. Perfectly calibrated according to the Doctor they told only the truth.
She snorted, he huffed, they debated the point. Sure she was right Mel accused him putting on weight, unmoved by his blustering denials she argued for the installation of a stepper as the static bicycle clearly wasn't cutting the mustard. First deriding then pleading and finally exploding the Doctor offering a distraction, he promised to take her somewhere she'd never seen before; somewhere so remarkable as to necessitate a pause in his diet.
Dubious but willing to be convinced she followed him to the scanner to see...well a giant blue bottle. Three times longer than Leeds and as deep as the Grand Canyon he called it a restaurant, the finest eatery this side of the Coal Sack Nebula.
"You've got to be joking; that's a restaurant," Mel's scorn bordered on mutiny and hinted that the stepper was now a real possibility.
"Colonic Rigour," the time lord was patting his ample middle as he said this.
"Is that you or the giant bottle," Mel had blurted out then seeing his hurt expression she reigned in the sarcasm a notch, "Is that really it's name," why she thought would anyone call a place that?
"The food is low on calories and high on roughage," a wince accompanied this promise, "Very high, CR serves some of the most indigestible food ever conceived."
"Then why on earth would anyone go there, doesn't that defeat the whole object of the exercise?"
"It's less about epicurean delight and more about intestinal fortitude. Diners are literally pitting their gastro-intestinal tracts against the sharp, tough, bitter and gag inducing meals. Those who can keep them down don't have a pay not even a tip to the waiter."
Sure he was fibbing, confabulating no less but Mel had to admit she was intrigued, "So that's what you want to do pit your time lord biology against the cooking."
He said proudly, "No time lord has ever dared to come here before, but it's always been a secret ambition of mine to put CR to the ultimate test – myself."
All this to get out of exercise and carrot juice, he had to be desperate and Mel felt a twinge of guilt maybe she'd been too harsh on the Doctor, her fitness regime oppressive after all it wasn't like he was getting any younger.
"Okay," she conceded they would go for a short visit a single meal, after all it couldn't hurt, "But if you put on more weight," a finger wagged. Regarding it judiciously the curly haired man proffered a smile, really said that smile as if such a thing were even possible. He set the coordinates with a little hum of pleasure; Mel was sure the tune was 'food glorious food' but gave him the benefit of the doubt.
Stepping out of the tall blue box she found herself in a long transept that seemed to be made of coloured glass, indeed everything she could see had the same smooth glass-like quality. The transept was wine coloured and circular and on one side was a clear and open view of space.
For a heart wrenching moment Mel thought the station was open to space but she could breathe normally and there was no violent pull of escaping air so she risked a step onto the glass floor expecting it to be slippy; it wasn't. Her trainer was sucked to the glassy floor and held there by what she recognised as some kind of magnetism.
Taking another step she emerged into the transept fully, the air was cool and scented and there wasn't even a hint of dust. Big improvement she thought as they normally materialised in gloomy, dirty and damp ridden hovels with something nasty lurking in the shadows ready to pounce on them.
The Doctor blustered out without a second's hesitation like he knew exactly what he'd find, his manner relaxed and even jovial a man at peace with himself, "Ah good," he remarked closing and locking the door, "This restaurant is," he erected a finger and this hovered in the air gliding first one way then the other, "This way," he set off, took three paces then went into reverse, "I mean that way," another three paces and he halted again.
Mel shook her head, "Your sense of direction never ceases to amaze me," she picked a direction at random and set off figuring that sooner or later they were bound to find someone who could help them. Not that she'd seen any members of staff anywhere nor any customers.
The Doctor hastily joined her, "Yes I think this is the way," he said like he'd chosen it.
"You're lost aren't you," the moment she said it she knew it was a mistake a red rag to a bull but before he could huff the word LOST 3 or 4 times with rising indignation she came across a pattern in the glassy wall, a blueprint with a helpful 'you are here' arrow.
"I," the portly man objected, "Am never lost."
"Well you aren't this time either," she revealed the blueprint and from it she deduced they had to move inwards and downwards the word RESTAURANT was marked quite clearly.
"Indeed," the Doctor huffed looking around and finding an escalator, "Just the ticket," and they took their places on the descending stairs which were also deserted.
"Must be out of season," Mel remarked, "I mean there's nobody here apart from us," she had been expecting the place to be heaving, "It is open for business."
"Never closes," he replied sharply, "And this place is always in season."
Then the lack of people or life forms was even more mystifying, maybe the restaurant would be busy with diners and waiters she hoped so as the grim silence was beginning to get on her nerves.
"How many people work here," she risked asking but at the moment it seemed like very few.
"The staff here are droids especially designed and customized for the task s they perform," he lectured.
"Androids," Mel shuddered not keen on mechanical people, "So there are no flesh and blood people working here at all?"
He had his mysterious face on again, "I did not say that exactly," and stepping off the escalator they passed under a pretty impressive blue arch to enter a huge auditorium divided up into large cubicles, each cubicle home to a single table and two chairs.
"Not exactly open plan is it," she remarked.
"Diners here are offered total privacy, the aim is to confront and digest food not socialise nobody comes here for a chat and a wave."
At that moment as if to contradict him a gravelly voice issued from a cubicle to their left where a single figure sat in isolation, his own costume no less striking than the Technicolor coat of the Doctor. He was a short, squat man with a bald head and full grey beard, human looking as far as she could tell with a pleasant smile on his rather bloated face, his eyes gleaming with pleasure.
"Doctor," voice replete with joy he lifted a hand to wave, it was then she noticed that he had webbed fingers.
Turning with surprise the time lord blinked then said, "Cheapskate," as a gasp then in a louder tone, "Great heavens," and he made his way over. At last thought Mel some signs of life and a friendly face, "Cheapskate what are you doing here, as if I couldn't guess."
The glistening black leather jacket and thick silver belt were gaudy enough but it was the blue and green skull cap with its flashing chin strap that Mel found most distracting, "Cheapskate," she repeated as a question and the Doctor made a huffing sound.
"Mel, allow me to introduce an old friend of mine – gastronome, wine connoisseur, journalist (of sorts) and full-time sponger Augustus Tipp-Rarely."
This new name was no less amazing than the last and unable to suppress a smirk the thin red head said, "Oh come of fit Doctor."
But he held up a hand to silence any rebuke and Augustus coughed, "It's true my dear that is my given name without a word of a lie. The Doctor and I are old collaborators, my word the meals we have faced down together eh Doctor - Draconian Death Octopus, Telosian throat squeezer and how about roast loin of Speelsnape."
Face actually blanching the time lord swallowed hard before saying, "Took 2 hours to kill and another 2 to cut through its hide."
"Ah yes," the critic agreed, "But the innards were succulent."
"Yes," the Doctor grudgingly agreed, "Provided you'd taken the anti serum in advance."
Mel was intrigued, "anti-serum."
"Every part of a Speelsnape is toxic Mel the scales, blood, bones even the appendix."
Augustus chuckled, "One of the deadliest meals in creation to be sure and it gave me indigestion for a month but there's something on the menu here said to be even more robust."
The curly haired man frowned as though this where news to him, "oh," he enquired.
Augustus enjoyed the dramatic pause; there was definitely something of the ham in him Mel decided then he said, "Aurigan Asparagus."
"Asparagus," the time lord bellowed, "Bit tame for you old chap isn't it, I didn't know the Aurigans had asparagus."
"This is a new mutant strain, genetically designed," Tipp-Rarely rubbed his hands together with relish.
Mel said, "Designed to do what exactly?"
Both men gave her a barely tolerant look but the Doctor deferred to his seated friend, "Why to kill of course, to attack and devour."
Mel wasn't sure her brain had correctly processed this information, "Hang on, you want to eat something that was bred to eat you?"
"Of course," the critic chuckled, "I love a challenge, so does he," he thumbed at the man in the coat, "Or he used to in his younger days."
Giving a wintry smile and holding up both hands the Doctor seemed to distance himself from the idea, "Where I alone perhaps but not with Mel present, I think I will attempt something less carnivorous."
"Lightweight," Augustus jibed and in response the Doctor patted his ample girth, he was anything but that.
Mel though was more concerned with the asparagus, "But this stuff sounds terribly dangerous."
A nod, "Yes I hope so, I do so hate passive cuisine."
"Are you armed, shouldn't you take precautions," Mel wondered if they should stick around to keep an eye on this man who seemed to be taking an insane risk.
"Trust me child," he sang, "I know what I'm doing."
The Doctor lowered his voice, not an easy task for him in his current incarnation, "People pay Augustus to eat their food and write about it, a write up by him even if it's critical can double or even triple profits."
"Yes but what about the danger, if this Asparagus is so deadly shouldn't we stick around and help him," it wasn't in Mel's nature to just abandon people she was a person who cared about others.
"You can't," said Augustus, "These booths are private, eaters must be left to their own devices it's a rule of the house. Anyway I don't need any help, nothing has come close to eating me not even that Speelsnape and it ate the Doctor's hat."
"We have to leave him to it I'm afraid," for once the Doctor seemed contrite to the point of humility and it was most unlike him – a man who bellowed and bawled his way through one danger after another all bluster and bile.
"You may be okay with that but I'm not," Mel had her rebellious hat on but before he could object two figures approached the booth both clearly artificial in nature, androids that glided rather than walked propelling along on a wide circular bases.
One had a slender curvy pink chassis that was clearly meant to represent the female form, the head and shoulders jutting out of this were silver and had been moulded into the contours of a young woman albeit bald with thick lips, a pert nose and large almond eyes. Even the synthesized voice when it spoke had a feminine lilt.
"Your meal is here sir, I apologize for the delay," she extended her left palm, "If you'll just sign the disclosure."
Extending his neck Augustus bent over the palm so it could read his retina, giving a soft bleep the femdroid said, "Thank you sir I hope you enjoy your meal."
The second android was bulkier with a blue chassis and a square jawed, male type of face. He was carrying a heavy metal box in both hands that looked like it was made of lead or steel. Duralinium the Doctor explained; one of the toughest alloys in the universe.
Mel was astonished why would asparagus be served in a metal box with a sealed top and the words EXTREME DANGER printed on the side?
"Enjoy sir," said the maldroid in a deep base tone as he lowered the box onto the table, "To open press the red key," he withdrew slightly, "Only once exposed to the air with your meal become active."
Odd word 'active' thought Mel, "In what way will it become active, how active?"
Both droids regarded her, the male saying, "You should retire to your own booth now."
"I'm not going anywhere," Mel began but the female bustled in front of her, "This way," she sang pushing Mel backwards.
"Hey," the slim red head complained.
"May we have audio contact with this booth," the Doctor asked quickly, "It is permitted in your charter."
The two automatons paused to consider this then the male turned back to Augustus, "Is this your wish also sir?"
"Yes why not," the critic responded, "Be nice to give a verbal summary of my triumph."
"In that case," said the female, "audio will be piped to your booth, two-way of course."
"Thank you," seeming mightily relieved the time lord waved to his friend, "Good luck Cheapskate."
"Luck Doctor will not be required I can assure you."
Still unhappy Mel backed away from the femdroid to a booth where the Doctor was already sitting down on one of two chairs, she felt hustled and ignored and not at all happy about any of this.
"Would you like to order now sir," the femdroid enquired.
"Not just yet," preoccupied the Doctor rested one hand on the table and used his other to trace a pattern on the table top, "Augustus can you hear me," he bellowed, "Come in old chap."
"Relax Doctor I'm just about to open the box and do battle," slightly tinny the voice of the critic was clear enough.
"Before you do is your sonic lance fully charged?"
"Of course it is Doctor, I'm not some amateur," sounding slightly annoyed Tipp-Rarely gave a sniff.
"What about a meson amplifier do you have one?"
"Naturally, stop panicking."
"I'd wear goggles if I were you and cover your nose and mouth."
"No need this stuff doesn't use any kind of chemical spray."
Wringing her hands Mel wanted nothing more than to run back to the other booth; Augustus sounded far too cavalier for her tastes but the femdroid was in her way arms parted wide to prevent any such mercy dash. In the background the maldroid watched ready to intervene if required.
"This is awful," Mel complained, "Why can't we have video?"
Nodding his agreement the Doctor strained to listen, "Cheapskate, what can you see," he demanded tersely, "Talk to me."
"The box is opening, my word," the critic gasped, "Oh my god I never ex..." he coughed, grunted, there was a dull crash then a piercing scream a terrible sound of terror and pain. On his feet in an instant the chubby time lord slid past Mel, ducked the android arms, weaved around the other droid and made a beeline for the other booth with a speed and suppleness she could only admire. When he had to the big man could be surprisingly athletic.
Another scream came from the booth but it was choked off with a sickening slurp, then Mel was running as the two droids began to rotate in alarm before following her.
Reaching the booth and careering to the halt the Doctor stood there letting out a gasp, his jowly face chalk white and blue eyes bulging. He said not a word just stood there rigid with shock.
Mel reached him and risked a look she had to see this. There was the box now empty and the critic's chair also empty, of the asparagus and its potential eater there was no sign. Augustus Tipp-Rarely had vanished.
"Where is he," Mel screamed looking all around the booth then on the floor, "What's happened to him," she did a circuit around the booth then away from it calling the man's name over and over.
Sonic out the Doctor waved this through the air, "I'm detecting no life signs," voice heavy with menace he turned to the droids, "Explain this," he demanded, "Where is the man who was sat here?"
The femdroid spoke in a flat emotionless voice as though discussing something trivial, "consumed," she said and Mel was appalled.
"Consumed, you mean eaten, something ate Augustus?"
"Not something," said the Doctor, "His meal this asparagus."
"Correct," the femdroid agreed.
"So where is it now," Mel screamed, "Why can't we see it," how had the meal or creature or whatever just disappeared so swiftly leaving no trace, 2Why is there no blood?"
"The asparagus drinks blood," the Doctor guessed, "Eats flesh, devours everything," he was stony featured.
"Indeed," the femdroid was still annoying calm and dispassionate.
Mel said, "And you allow this, it's legal," not waiting for an answer she turned to her companion, "We must call the police."
Then the Maldroid rejoined the conversation, "We," he said, "Are the police."
"You're machines," Mel was scornful, "Waiters."
"We are staff, the legal custodians of this establishment," now the femdroid sounded petulant like she'd been insulted well good, it was nice to know she could be shaken.
"I mean real police who investigate crimes," Mel raged.
"No crime has been committed here," the maldroid announced.
"Yes it has a man's been killed."
The female said, "He signed the disclaimer, he accepted the risk."
She was for once speechless and in the void the Doctor stepped forwards, "I'm sorry Mel but they're right Augustus knew the danger and gave his tacit agreement."
How could he be so calm and understanding, "It's disgusting," she cried.
"Yes it is," hands up he assumed a defensive posture which was good as she was about to hit something.
"He was your friend, how can you be so, so..."what was the word unfeeling, alien, time lord?
"I'm going to get to the bottom of this Mel I promise you," and turning to the droids he said, "I want the same meal Augustus had, the Aurigan Asparagus."
Mel could hardly believe her ears, "Is that it, a man's died and you're ordering a main course?"
With his eyes he pleaded with her to ratchet down the emotion and outrage they weren't helping, "I'm doing all I can Mel."
"Sitting down to dinner," she was appalled, "You call that doing something," fists tight she backed away, "Well it's not the best I can do," and to the droids, "Show me the kitchen where this stuff is kept, I want to speak to whoever prepared the meal whoever's in charge and it had better not be another tin can like you two."
Giving a world weary sigh and rolling his eyes the Doctor asked her to come back but Mel was on the war path and when she set her mind on a course she rarely drew back.
"This way," said the femdroid, "Our chef is Harshbark Snide."
The name meant nothing to her but the Doctor had clearly heard of it, "Celebrity, TV star and bestselling author, the rudest man in the media," he remarked, "He works here?"
"He co-owns this establishment," maldroid replied.
"Does he indeed, how interesting."
Not remotely interested as she'd never heard of Harshbark Snide Mel stamped her feet impatiently, keen to be off, "Come on," she urged, "I want to see him now."
"Good idea," the time lord mused under his breath, "You'll be a good match for each other," he returned to his booth knowing his place was there as a diner. Let Mel kick up a fuss and aggravate the owner, Snide wasn't the menace here the asparagus was and it was down to him to deal with it. Mel's absence was probably a good thing as this promised to be very nasty. Anything that could kill his old friend was formidable indeed and he couldn't afford any distractions.
Reaching into his garish jacket he took out what he believed he would need, sonic of course, thermic lance, magnetic clamps, goggles and a mouth mask. This stuff killed quickly and ate even faster, he'd get only chance to win this battle and he couldn't waste it.
Augustus had been a veteran food fighter yet it had overwhelmed him with frightening ease, this asparagus was clearly no mere vegetable and I mustn't be either the Doctor told himself.
Mel could hear the voice long before she reached the kitchen, you couldn't miss it, loud bellowing, sniping and sarcastic it spewed out a continual series of insults and cringe-inducing observations on the shortcomings of staff. Idiot, moron, cretin and halfwit were some of the kinder epithets; she didn't want to think what the blasphemies and obscenities might be.
The femdroid by her side came to a halt, "I'm not authorized to enter this zone," she said with something close to relief and Mel didn't blame her.
"That's okay," she sang, "I think I can find my way from here," swallowing hard she prepared herself for the storm but even she wasn't ready for the huge silver pan that came flying towards her head out of the steam along with the screech,
"You blithering idiot I said warm not boiling now it's ruined you mechanical lame brain."
Ducking just in time to avoid a black eye or worse Mel heard the pan clang somewhere behind her and as the steam cleared she took in the vast octagonal kitchen with its dozens of bubbling pans, frying delicacies and chopped meats many of which squirmed disgustingly.
The cowed kitchen staff in white gowns were clearly all droids, they all had the same silver heads and necks and all wore the same expression – desperation mixed with fear and loathing.
Stood amidst them waving a meat cleaver in one hand and a rolling pin in the other was a plump, red faced man with bulging eyes and corded neck veins working himself into a stroke. He was no taller than Mel possibly even an inch shorter but he had one of the loudest voices she'd ever heard. He'd have given the Doctor a run for his vocal chords.
Screaming even shrieking he berated his trembling staff for their incompetence and seemed about to use one if not both of the objects he held when he saw her and the fury died on his lips, "Who the blazes are you," he gulped?
Ears ringing she produced what she hoped was a disarming smile, "Hi I'm Mel," she said simply deciding it best not to go into a complicated explanation, "It's my first day," true as far as it went, "I'm here to work."
Harshbark Snide had less hair than on his book covers; in fact he didn't have any. TV made him look thinner, taller and younger in short it flattered him for his was a truncated, dumpy little cue ball and for a moment he seemed unusually lost for words then he spluttered.
"You work here," and he actually burst out laughing which Mel decided was even worse than being yelled at because the one thing she couldn't stand was being mocked.
"Yes," she said shrilly, "So I'd better make a start," and taking out a small pencil she licked the end and looked around, yes that would do and she picked up a laminated menu, "Health and safety Mr Snide and I've seen 27 violations already," she lied injecting as much contempt into her voice as she could imitating her Aunt Vi.
Walking forwards she peered at one pan after another shaking her head and tutting loudly, "Shameful," she muttered getting into character and enjoying his discomfort, "Appalling," she began to sketch the Doctor giving him a huge paunch and bloated cheeks topped by a tangle candyfloss of blond curls, "Oh this won't do at all," she said marching past droid after droid.
This lot were sexless, androgynous as far as she could tell but they bore the same scowl, frown, misery and dejection.
Her charade lasted just long enough for a single circuit of the kitchen then Snide grabbed her menu, glared at it and tossed it into a bin, "I thought so you're a fraud," he square dup to Mel which given his lack of inches wasn't easy, "An impostor," he poked her arm, "Trying it on I know your game."
Angered by the poke she gave him one right back, "And you are a bully, a braggart and a lousy employer," let him chew on that.
Not used to someone who fought back he actually blanched in shock, recovering only gradually, "This is a put up job isn't it," he said.
"Whatever do you mean," genuinely confused Mel noticed the droids all watching; several were smiling and nodding, enjoying the distraction and the sight of their tyrannical boss on the back foot for once.
"You're not health and safety you're from a rival TV channel trying to steal my ideas, or poach me from Gastric Ulcer my production company."
So absurd where these ideas that she burst out laughing despite herself, who'd want to poach this overblown big mouth and ego maniac then again on television he doubtless fitted in perfectly with all the other inflated overpaid ego maniacs.
"Actually that's not true," she said.
"Oh come off what do you take me for, I wasn't born yesterday," and the meat cleaver came dangerously close to her neck, "Well it's not going to work Mel, nobody makes a fool of Harshbark Snide in his own kitchen, I'm the boss here the king and furthermore," he got no further as suddenly and amazingly the four nearest droids rushed him after somebody shouted NOW.
The next thing Mel knew Snide was slammed into a walk-in freezer and she found herself facing a very businesslike staser pistol held by a droid in an apron and a rather pointless hair net.
"An extra hostage," she said, "How very handy," and the staser jabbed into Mel's middle making it plain to her that she'd walked blindly into a very bad situation indeed, nothing less than a robot revolution.
When the duralinium lined box was plonked onto his table with a thud the Doctor eased back a notch to study it, he could see the red button clearly enough however there was a feature he hadn't noticed before, "What's this here," he pointed, "This blue button?"
"That sir," said the maldroid "Allows you to view your meal before releasing it."
Convenient he mused and thumbing the button he watched a small oblong window on the side of the box snap open to reveal – not very much at all beyond condensation. Then something long and fibrous wiped the moisture away to expose.
Rearing back with a gasp the normally unflappable time lord had to compose himself with an effort. He'd faced everything from kaled mutants to huge killer slugs and even the odd mature Speelsnape but the heaving tangle of green fronds, tubers and tentacles facing him now reminded him of a krindoid mixed with a nestine and then some, it was ghastly, revolting and undeniably hostile.
He hoped his voice wasn't trembling when he said, "Ah yes just perfect, yum yum," he licked his lips; "Should go down very nicely," his large middle was patted.
"I'll leave you to your meal now sir, or perhaps I'll leave the meal to you," was that android humour? There was no smile on the silver face as the mechanical glided away leaving the Doctor with a simple choice, keep the box sealed or open it.
"May I ask how this was cooked" asked the Doctor genially.
"It isn't cooked sir that would ruin the flavour, your meal is raw.
Interesting the curly haired man mused not cooked, he pondered this for a moment wondering if it was significant; most things were at some stage.
The very last thing he wanted to do was hit the red button so lifting his sonic he did a quick scan ascertaining the size, weight and chemical composition of his opponent. It was undergoing massive cellular increase and metabolic acceleration acquiring new tentacles, teeth and digestive juices, not to mention doubling its muscle mass and rewiring its central nervous system.
The Doctor knew that if he just opened the lid this creature would be on him in a second grabbing, sucking, chewing and blinding so he had to pick his moment he had to do this right. Standing up he circled the box rubbing his chin sonic in one hand, lance in the other. How to approach this problem, how to avoid being killed by the initial rush.
The meal was big and getting bigger adding teeth and tentacles by the second, it had been rewired all right and by an expert, designed and upgraded until it was a killer. The maldroid who had lingered by an exit glided back a bit to study the time lord with interest, "Anything wrong sir," he now asked?
"This asparagus where did it come from," the Doctor asked?
"The Aurigan system sir."
"Yes but where specifically, who exports this stuff?"
"I'm sorry sir that information is confidential."
"But you know the answer don't you?"
"Yes sir it is in my restricted-access files."
Good thought the tall man turning his sonic on the droid swiftly and without warning, immobilizing the machine he turned off its defences one by one and gained entry to the data core, good firewall but not quite good enough. Pass word protected – no problem he was in within seconds.
Yes there they were restricted-access and there was the asparagus with a file all its own, sonically he prized it open until he could read the encrypted information, "very revealing," he muttered, "So it was you all along was it," then he found the gene codes for the asparagus, the DNA upgrades, the protein chains.
It was all quite logical. Diabolical but logical. The Doctor returned to the box armed with more knowledge, he quickly adjusted both sonic and lance, right it was time to engage the enemy albeit with a healthy dose of caution.
"You'll never get away with this," terrible cliché but it was the best Mel could do when gripped with heart-freezing terror, she'd never been taken hostage before and it wasn't a pleasant experience.
A male droid edged over, "It's too soon twenty-four," he said addressing the female droid who seemed to be in charge of this kitchen revolution.
"Be quiet thirty-seven the timing's perfect," the reply was testy.
"But we didn't factor in another hostage an innocent," thirty-seven sounded like he was losing his electronic bottle to Mel which might work in her favour.
"He's right," she said, "This is crazy, I don't even like Harshbark."
If this was meant to impress twenty-four it singularly failed, "You're an organic, all organics are the same looking down their noses at us, dismissing us as appliances denying us proper wages or a union because we're mere machines."
This was clearly a long running grievance and Mel felt a stab of sympathy, these poor droids treated like menials by Snide had taken all they could stomach of his abuse and foul temper.
"I'm not like that," she protested, "I don't think you're appliances or mere machines and that man has no right to yell at you."
Taken aback by this the droids studied Mel with new eyes even twenty-four was rendered speechless but Harshbark had regained the power of speech.
"Don't be stupid girl droids are droids and this lot are clearly ready for the crusher."
She couldn't believe how insensitive he was how uncaring, "That's horrible, you're horrible," she rounded on him, "They have personalities, feelings and..."
"Feelings," he snorted like she was a simpleton, "They're metal and circuits nothing more, they obey programs and carry out tasks like a cooker or a fridge."
But the stern looks he received from the rebels told a different story and gliding over twenty-four took his chin in one of her cold cybernetic hands giving it a pinch, "Such arrogance," she simmered and for a moment Mel thought she was going to rip the jaw from Snide's face, "You deserve to die."
"No," Mel cried, "Don't kill him he's no use to you dead, didn't you say you wanted hostages?"
"We have you," thirty-seven pointed out and Mel had to think quickly to avert bloodshed.
"Yes but Snide is famous, think of the publicity he's rich and important whereas I'm not," that last bit was said a bit sadly as Mel realised she was nobody just plain Melanie Bush. Then the chef put his foot in it again,
"You stupid tin cans you're not going to get away with this for one second, the security forces will bust in here and reduce you to scrap."
"Shut up," Mel screamed at the red-faced man, "Just shut up you're not helping, can't you see these droids are desperate; why else would they resort to this. You should listen to their demands;" she paused, "What are your demands by the way?"
Twenty-four answered, "An instant pay rise in line with the recent android pay act, the reinstatement of our colleagues sacked by him and," she glared at Snide, "His dismissal effective immediately."
Harshbark burst out laughing like this was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard but to Mel it seemed quite reasonable. It wasn't like they were holding Snide for some king's ransom or the release of prisoners, indeed the demands appeared quite modest.
"Let me help you," she said, "I can negotiate on your behalf."
Snide stopped laughing and gazed at her as though she was addled, "What are you doing, you can't agree with these glorified blenders, they have no rights they're tools, devices."
He was wrong he had to be wrong, the droids had consciousness and awareness otherwise they wouldn't have mutinied like this. Mel said, "I sympathize with your plight twenty-four, I think you have a good case for compensation."
The female droid's features softened with surprise like she hadn't expected this from an organic, "Thank you Mel," she said.
Then the huge main freezer in the corner began to rattle, shake and give off smoke. On the side of it was printed ASPARAGUS and it was clear the power to the freezer had been cut, the stuff inside was warming up and waking up.
"Oh dear," Harshbark spluttered clearly delighted, "What are you going to do now?"
The Doctor positioned his sonic over the red button he gave a short, a very short, burst and the lid cracked open a fraction. Slime splashed out onto the table, spores flew into the air, thin tendrils writhed and twisted as the monstrous thing inside tried to smash its way free but it couldn't.
Good thought the Doctor at least the box was strong enough to restrain the thing inside. He applied his lance to the exposed tissue and gave it a short burst. With a screech the green coiling thing withdrew its tendrils stung and shocked.
"That's more like it," said the time lord taking a step back his goggles in place, "You're not getting out of there in a hurry, not if I have anything to do with it."
But with a roar and a renewed effort the asparagus creature applied itself to the box lid and this began to creak upwards its hydraulic locks failing one by one as they sparked and smoked. The Doctor saw thick yellowish tubers, bulging muscular fronds and lashing green muscles, teeth snapped and vicious stingers probed the air.
This was no mere vegetable. He gave it a burst from the lance but this time although blackened and crisped the creature didn't withdraw, so he used the sonic hoping sound would be more effective.
Shooting out a tentacle closed around his right wrist and twisted hard until he dropped his sonic onto the carpet, he actually heard the small bones in the wrist grate and crack. Flipping the lance around he used its other end to slice through the tentacle with a sharp blade, cleaving it neatly into two halves.
Arm released he pulled it back his wrist broken and twisted at an odd angle, due to his amazing Gallifreyan biology he was able to direct additional artron energy into the joint and repair it but while he was doing that his monstrous opponent tore free of the box, flopped onto the table top and glowered at him with an abundance of eyes to match its forest of teeth.
Possessing a bulbous central core from which a host of writhing limbs extended the mass was mostly shapeless and still evolving, growing new offshoots and lumps of tissue. Time was short, the Doctor knew that, he could sense the creature building up to leaping on him and if it did that he was finished.
He kicked over the table sending it, the box and the monster crashing to the floor then seizing the box bare handed he rammed this over the crawling, seething mass and sat on top of the box lid glad for once of his bulk and girth. His last self had been way too slim to pull such a trick off.
Adjusting his sonic he played it over the box sending a host of sound vibrations into the lethal vegetiod a veritable orchestra of high and low signals with everything in between until the thumping, screeching and snapping suddenly ceased.
Ah setting 109 that was useful to know. Easing off the box he moved gingerly away from it and waited, but there was no mad rush to attack him no hurling of the box into the air. He took a life reading NO VIABLE LIFE SIGNS flashed up on the display.
"Oh good," the time lord beamed then he looked over at the droid, "Think I've lost my appetite old chap but I do want to complain to the chef; where might I find him?"
Mel was fuming she knew Harshbark had pulled a fast one that it was he who had killed the power to the freezer, "Turn it back on," she pleaded but his features were truculent, "You know how lethal that stuff is, if it gets loose in here."
"Yes," he enquired with fake innocence, "What; it'll attack everything in sight and eat you, oh dear how awful."
"You to," twenty-four pointed out but the chef didn't seem too bothered.
"Actually no," he said, "I'm safe it's designed not to harm me."
"How do you know that," asked thirty-seven but Mel had worked it out.
"You designed the asparagus, you imported it here, and it's your product."
With a smug grin the fat man nodded seeming very pleased with himself once again, "Tables turned I'd say, advantage Harshbark," he said like this was a tennis match and he'd scored match point.
"So you'd happily watch the rest of us get chewed to pulp so long as you're safe," Mel fumed thinking what a truly loathsome creature the chef was.
"Nothing," he said, "Can stop it," he pushed the droid hands off him, "If I were you I'd start running."
But another voice equally booming and a trifle smug cut in, "Oh I wouldn't go that far," said the Doctor marching into the kitchen with a proud grin and a raised sonic his manner calm and self-assured.
Beside herself with joy and relief to see him Mel couldn't resist a beaming smile, he had survived his meal which meant he'd found a way to tame it, she began to babble about the freezer but in that instant its top tore loose and a huge coiling mass of greenery began to evacuate out onto the floor.
It was like his former meal only three times bigger and ten times nastier with thick cable sized tentacles, bulging red eyes and prodigious rows of sharks teeth.
The droids reared back, so did Mel only Harshbark Snide seemed completely untroubled. Chest puffed out and head up he gave a triumphant smirk as he pushed metal bodies out of his way and approached the seething green monster, "Oh dear me this is a bit of a dilemma isn't it," he crowed, "Do you run or do you die, actually you'll probably do both given how fast and hungry this stuff is."
"Keep away from it," cried Mel but the chef waved this aside.
"It won't harm me it can't, it's programmed to avoid my DNA; I'm the one person here who is safe."
The Doctor was frowning, "I wouldn't count on that if I were you Mr Snide that stuff is evolving and reformatting itself as we speak," he waved everyone out, "Come with us now."
Giving him a dismissive look Snide made a clucking sound, "Nobody can take me down I'm the greatest chef in the galaxy, book deals, TV shows, interviews an online forum. Do you really think I'm going to lose all that? I'm a giant, a legend; people love to hate me I'm a cult sensation."
"Just keep away from that thing," Mel was nearly hysterical, "It's insane."
"So I fear is he," the time lord mused raising his sonic, "Never fear Mel setting 109 should do the trick," he pressed a knob on the side of the device to fill the air with a musical note.
What happened next was horrific and unexpected, the creature pounced on Harshbark and ate him, stuffing him into its vast mouth it chewed him up whole – ego and all. Closing her eyes and turning away Mel lifted both hands to her mouth, she felt an arm go around her but it was metallic not living, it belonged to droid twenty-four.
The Doctor was shaking his head clearly bewildered by how his sonic could fail so spectacularly, "It must have mutated," he muttered as he fiddled with the pen shaped tool that was always in his pocket.
"We should go," said twenty-four as the vile heaving green mass expanded across the kitchen floor.
"Yes," galvanized Mel tugged the Doctor's sleeve, "right now," she trilled.
Looking up surprised he shrugged her off, "You go, all of you get out of here," he waved, "I have to stop this thing or the entire restaurant will be lost."
Some of the droids had already left and twenty-four pulled Mel with her, the slim red head resisting all the way unwilling to just leave the Doctor.
GO he waved his eyes telling her he'd be fine that he wouldn't take any stupid risks, but she knew him better than that.
The monster was now only a couple of meters away and the Doctor seemed rooted to the spot still fiddling with his sonic oblivious it seemed to the danger.
Finally he huffed angrily and aimed his sonic directly upwards away from the asparagus and towards the ceiling. A discordant screech flew from the blue tip and every sprinkler in the kitchen began to gush jets of water, hot water that drenched the Doctor, Mel and any droids unlucky enough to be still within range.
They also soaked the asparagus which began to steam and smoke and writhe with discomfort. At first Mel wasn't sure what she was seeing then it occurred to her that the asparagus was being boiled and steamed; and it was shrinking, losing mass, folding it on itself.
As the sprinklers soaked it through the huge green mass of tendrils and teeth began to melt turning a thick oozing soup on the floor.
The Doctor had done it; he had overcooked dinner yet again.
Pulling free of twenty-four she ran back hair plastered to her skull, "What happened," she cried but she could see for herself, "How did you know that would work?"
It was clear from his expression that he hadn't known not for sure, he'd been taking a gamble playing the odds, "Ever dropped a lettuce leaf in hot water Mel; it goes rather limp," he said with a slightly smug grin and then with his curly hair reduced to a sopping dish rag he took her by the arm.
"Back to the diet I think, I've had quite enough of challenging meals."
She was moved to say, "Perhaps we could skip the carrot juice," she offered generously seeing his eyes beam.
"Really," there was no hiding the joy on that cherubic face.
"For a day or two," she added.