What happens when the Doctor has to do something no one should ever have to do: get a tooth pulled
Complete crack and drabble! No flames, critisicm or sarcasm... jk, i want it all! (except the flames, that'd be just mean)
Slight AU, but come on, in humor thats practically unavoidable in some stories. Don't worry, we dont see Rory storming into the TARDIS in full mega-death terminator getup and speaking german... hmm... well... (jk :p)
Inspired by my bestest fweind Patricia [Last Name Classified] (just kidding, but she's sitting right next to me as I wite this and saying I inspiwed hew since she got a toof pulled((this is ment to sound like Elmer Fudd, i dont really sound like this.(((ITS A CRACK FIC! I CAN DO WHAT I WANT!))))))
The Doctor was a man of experience, of trails by fire, not to mention just about every other painful material out there, and had come through many ordeals in his 900 years of existence. Yes, he could handle pretty much any pain directed at his body.
Except his mouth, anything but his mouth.
"Arrgh!" The Doctor groaned one day as he manned the control's. He held his cheek, grimacing at the white hot pain being stabbed up his tooth.
"What?" Amy asked, walking over from where she'd been leaning against the bar, watching the Doctor while Rory tried to finalize details for something important. What had he been talking about anyway? Amy wasn't sure, but the Doctor being in pain was a far more amusing endeavor than whatever the heck Rory was talking about.
"Amy," the Doctor whirled around, grabbing Amy by the arms and holding her in place as he stared into her eyes very seriously,"I have an alien sentient creature lodged in one of my teeth. Get my screwdriver and direct it at the tooth. It should be obvious which one it is. It'll probably be all gross and covered in Alien things. Oh dear," he turned away, going off on a tangent, "I wish I could see it." But then his head snapped back to attention, "But now's not the time for sentimentiality and missed oppurtunites, Amy!" The Doctor tightened his grip, "Help Me!"
"Move." Rory cut between the two like a hot knife through butter, he replaced Amy and shoved the Doctor back into the controls.
"Rory!" Doctor feigned surprise at the "scandalous" Rory, "Why I never knew this side of yo-"
"Shut up." Rory commanded calmly as he leaned over and wrenched the Doctor's jaw open.
"I hink oo uld e aeul O-e!" The Doctor said as Rory inspected his mouth best he could, his tongue was getting in the way. "Uh aween ooh ahah ay oent!"
"Did I not say shutup?" Rory gave the Doctor's jaw an unnecessary jerk and continued inspecting while the Doctor stewed quietly.
"Amy," Rory called out, not looking up.
"What?"
"We need a dentist."
"For an alien?" Amy was unsure, she didn't want to believe in the possibility that a Dentist knew how to deal with intergalactic beings, but anything was possible to her at this point.
"For a regular tooth that needs pulling." Rory said a little tiredly. Honestly, every minute: alien! alien! alien! What was it with this man and his uncanny ability to turn any human completely nutty?
"Oh." Amy hoped she wasn't going red.
"Can you fly this thing?" Rory asked her.
"No."
The Doctor found this the opportune moment to break free from his oppresing bonds and grasp his freedom.
"I can fly the TARDIS," he said with an air of sudden superiority, "What extermination facility are we taking my poor tooth to? Im not afraid of losing this traitor, but how bad will be the pain?"
"2011, Earth, London, forty ninth street." Rory rattled off the top of his head.
"Earth?" the Doctor said, sounding alittle shocked, "You can handle aliens now?"
"Yes." Rory sighed, deciding to go along with it until it was to late for the Doctor wiggle his way out of anything.
The Doctor shrugged, turning to the controls and spinning a wheel and pulling a lever up and down.
"Geronimo!" He called out as the TARDIS began to shake.
Rory just rolled his eyes, while Amy smiled.
The TARDIS landed smoothly, stopping in front of a large, square, brown building.
The Doctor shot out the blue door, waving his arms around like an escaped lunatic and calling, "I'M HERE! THE UNIDENTIFIED ALIEN SENTIENT IS WITHIN ME!"
"What do you see in him?" Rory couldn't help asking Amy as he grabbed the still screaming Time Lord and began dragging him into the brown bricked building.
"Ooh! It's a," The Doctor barged through the door Rory pointed out to him, "Waiting Room?"
"Surprised?" a haggard mother asked from one of the large armchairs along the wall. Her son was bouncing up and down on her lap and screaming that he didn't want to go.
The Doctor blinked, then turned to Rory and Amy who were hovering by the door, watching.
"You said you were going to take care of the alien problem."
"We are stupid." Rory said, grabbing the Doctor by the forearm and dragging him further into the waiting room. Amy scurried over to the counter.
"Hi." She smiled, the receptionist was most apathetic in response.
"Ok," Amy started, seeing what kind of audience was before her, "Well, see, me and two of my friends are on a trip, and well, one of us has a toothache. Really bad." The receptionist was still merely staring at her, "Anyway, we were wondering if he could see the dentist?"
"This is a dentist's office dear." The receptionist finally said. Amy bit back a snarky retort and just nodded her head, gladly accepting the clipboard with the forms for new patients and scurrying over to the other two.
"Okay, lets see." She said, sitting down. The Doctor, still thouroghly believing his pain was the work of an alien, was wrestling Rory and trying to get out of the chair.
"I don't want to sit here! I want to sit in the blue one!" he said, borderline whined.
"The blue one is a plastic kids chair." Rory said, clamping a hand on the Doctor's shoulder and pushing him back down.
"Yes," The Doctor addmited, "But that chair is fun."
"SIT!" Rory hissed, literally throwing the almost escaped Time Lord back into his chair and eyeing him dangerously as he himself sat down next to him. The Doctor crossed his arms and mumbled something about staying put because he wanted to, not because Rory told him to.
"Doctor." Amy whispered from across him. The Doctor, pouting, swivelled his head to look at her.
"Few questions." Amy smiled, "What's your name?"
"The Doctor." The Doctor pouted, then his face lit up, "My turn, what's your favorite color?"
"What? No! Doctor, I need to fill this out so we can take care of your... alien... problem." Amy hoped no one else could hear her.
"I want to play 20 questions. This way you get your information, and I get all your deepest darkest secrets." The Doctor smiled slyly.
"Just do it Amy." Rory said tiredly.
"Fine." Amy rolled her eyes, "Blue. Age?"
"900. Favorite flavor of pudding?"
"Chocolate. Helath insurance?"
And on it went, Amy filling out the form while answering what her favorite pop singers, kind of cars, body part, age, and type of paper was. She was a little weirded out by the last one, but it was the Doctor so she could only hope that didn't amount to anything to weird.
"Finally." Amy looked over the form, then deflated as she realized she couldn't turn it in; it'd make no sense to the receptionist.
"Just use the name he always does, John Smith." Rory said, amazed Amy hadn't thought of it before.
"Fine. Name: John Smith, Age:... 30?"
"50." Rory said unhelpfully. Amy kicked him and continued to re-fill out the form.
Finally, she returned it to the receptionist who raised an eyebrow at the black cloud-like scratch outs before sighing and proceeding to enter the information into her computer.
"He'll be right with you." She said, turning to Amy who nodded and returned to her seat to find the Doctor and Rory were once again wrestling as the Doctor wanted to "inspect" the wooden child's plaything sitting in the middle of the room.
"No!" Rory commanded, holding onto the Doctor's arms like his life depended on it.
"Yes!" The Doctor whined.
"Doctor." Amy hissed, seeing a mother look over at them, raising an eyebrow in concern of the fighting men and pulling her child closer to her, "Stop!"
The Doctor pouted in his seat, "Everyones against me." He whined quietly.
"John Smith!" someone called through a large heavy door.
"Come on." Amy said, grabbing the Doctor's arm and directing him towards the dentist's chair.
"Hey Amy, funny thing, this place looks alot like a dentist's office. In fact that poster over there says 'Dentist' on it." The Doctor smiled as he sat in the chair.
"Well, it is." Amy said carefully, pretending she wasn't amused by the look of shock on the Doctor's face.
"But what about the alien?" He demanded, "Amy, don't you think this'll get people killed?"
"No." Rory answered for her as the dentist walked in and lowered the Doctor's chair into a laying position.
"Hello John," the dentist smiled, "What can I do for you today?"
"Get back about 50 feet, take everyone in here with you, and contact whoever's in charge of aliens in this country besides me or Torchwood." The Dentist blinked.
"Ah. Okay, but first let me take a look inside your-"
"No! No! Let's not do that!" The Doctor began pushing the old dentist away, and almost off the chair. Rory and an assistant had to tackle him to keep him from running away.
The dentist got up, with his glasses hanging from one ear, and a drill clamped in a gloved hand.
"Now young man, I think it's high time you stopped being afraid of the dentist. Now sit down and let me work on your teeth!"
"Doctor," Amy leaned down, the Doctor turned to look at her from under Rory's elbow, "If the alien wanted to attack people, wouldn't it have attacked Rory when he looked at your teeth?"
This seemed to dawn on the Doctor, who nodded and immediately stopped struggling. Rory and the assisstant got off him, and the Doctor scooted his chair in for a closer look.
He poked and prodded the Doctor's teeth, and when the Doctor jumped violently in his seat the Dentist put down his tools and beckoned Rory and Amy into the hallway.
"Your friend needs his tooth pulled. It's completely rotten." the Dentist said, stripping off his gloves. "I suggest doing it next week."
"No. Now." Amy said, "We need to get back on the road as soon as possible."
The Dentist shrugged, "Alright."
Then all three walked back into the room where the Doctor was now spinning around on the dentist's chair, screaming, "Im Flying!" While the assistant took video.
Amy snapped her fingers and pointed to the chair, which the Doctor scurried into like a trained dog, giving her an apologetic look with his great big cow eyes. Amy returned it with a stern look, silently instructing him to be good.
"We're going to operate immediately, go grab the tools, and alot of gas." The dentist instructed to the assisstant who nodded and ran out of the room.
"What's the gas for?" the Doctor asked.
"We're going to pull your tooth out. You've managed to rot it through the roots. What were you doing anyway?" The Dentist showed the Doctor an x-ray of his teeth, pointing to the offending tooth.
The Doctor shrugged, "Too many Jammie Dodgers?"
"Well, no more Jammie Dodgers then," the Dentist said condescendingly. The Doctor looked positively horrified at the thought.
The assisstant suddenelly crashed open the door, a trolley filled with a gas tank and a pan of tools on top of it.
The Doctor began to fidget in his chair, "Ah lets talk about this now," he began, trying to get up but Rory clamped his hands down on the Doctors shoulders, forcing him to stay there.
"No! Rory! No! They can't take my tooth!"
"You were prepared to loose it earlier." Amy pointed out.
"That was when there was an alien stuck in it. I don't want to lose my poor tooth!" The Doctor began to flail as the assisstant attached a mask and hose to the gas tank. He began screaming for pity as Rory, the Dentist, and the Assisstant all forced the mask on to him and Rory had to hold it there while the Assisstant opened the gas valves and let the Laughing gas flow freely into the Doctor's respitory system. The Doctor's attempts at escape became weaker and weaker and eventually he went limp, his head lolling to the side. His eyes had glazed over and he was grinning stupidly at Amy.
"I wish I were ginger." He muttered, reaching out to touch her hair, but Amy swatted his hand down quickly, hissing 'No!'
"Well then," said the Dentist taking up his tools, "Let's begin."