Disclaimer : I don't own Doctor Who, but I can play with them. Muhahahahahaha!

Well, this chapter was a bit early, but you get the idea.

I was chatting to FunkyFairyGirl about various things involving the video blackmail, when I heard (decided the story was too normal and needed livening up) two things. Something breaking, and a cry of EXTERMINATE. Ah, looks like the Dalek's found the Doctor and PixieSpryte. Eating pineapple (inspiration from my pineapple yoghurt I'm eating) in the kitchen. Never mind. Anywho, we where about to run for our lives, when there was another crash of something breakable (probably more glass bananas) and a cry of DELETE from the other end of the hall. Great! So we're stuck between two lots of fighting things, which would like to destroy us either way. But I'm the author, so I think it's time for . . .

crash

. . . The SuperFan Girls!! Consisting of, Padme's Sister and Stargazing (BasketCase) who are both luffed by me and my little writing ring, however, more may be added, if I can find my favourite authors list . . .

Getting back to the story, they crashed through a wall (from where, Rassilion knows.) and all the Daleks and Cybermen went and hid in a cupboard. To be brought out on a rainy day, or plot lapse. So the five of us (the Doctor had put a face on the pineapple. And was calling it Mr. Smiley) turned round and went "Who are you?" Well, everyone, minus me, of course.

"We're the SuperFan Girls."

So, they're so fannish, they're immune to their FanGirlitius, and the Daleks and Cybermen are scared of them.

"Well, that's useful."

"Hey, can anyone tell me where the evil Lord Voldemort is?"

It turns out, Ron, Hermione and Harry were standing behind the group, and Voldemort was standing behind them, making faces.

"Behind you."

"Ahhh, Harry Potter, we meet again."

Great, now we have a fight for the entire wizarding world, in the TARDIS.

So, while Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort started firing spells at each other in the corridor, the Fan Girls and SuperFan Girls decided to super-hyper, drunkenly super, triple twist glomp the Doctor. Just cause they're immune, doesn't mean they don't get to glomp the Doctor.

Ron and Hermione went off somewhere, somewhere I don't care to specify where.

When the Doctor had marginally recovered, Jack stumbled in the room, Harkness mode.

"Hey, did you guys invite Darth Vader on board?"

author snickers

"Darth Vader?"

Yeah, I thought he might be evil company for Lord Voldemort, and the evil fluffy kitten.

"But that kitten can't be evil, it's too cute!" Jack protested.

Think again.

K-9!

"Say . . . who . . . what . . . where . . . OUCH!! Crap!!"

Poor Doctor, K-9's right behind you. And you just got hit with a stunning spell. Oh, bloody hell.

points wand at Doctor

Mahwah. I am a witch. Now I am, anyway.

So Voldemort came back in the corridor with a look of evilness on his face.

"I am always evil."

Hey, in this story, I'm more evil. That's why I'm inventing . . . grenade bananas!!

"Say what?"

Chew on that, Voldy. By the way, I have eight Horcruxes. Seven, is so passé.

"You're mean!"

Believe it. Go talk to Darthey.

"Darthey? Darth Vader's here? Daddy!!"

I know that makes absolutely no sense, just believe, for the sake of the story.

So, Voldy ran off, to Daddy, who was talking to the kitten.

Everyone, including the new SuperFan Girls, gravitated towards the control room ,dodging the occasional stunning spell that was bouncing off the walls.

I sat back up in my seat, to write, and to eat my leftover pots of white chocolate spread. K-9, who drifted off a couple of paragraphs ago, came tootling in when he saw . . .

. . . the kitten.

He may be a robot, but essentially, he's a dog. Which means . . .

Crash. Bang. Smash. Pet-twoiong.

Fluffy, as the kitten shall now be known, got hold of Jack's Sonic Blaster, and K-9 just had his laser.

While a war of the animals was moving down the TARDIS, Jack re-appeared, fully Sparrow clothed, complete with bottle of rum.

Where'd you get that?

"Wouldn't you like to know, lass."

I am the author, and I can, say, dangle you over a pit of crocodiles

"Ah, no, get me down, you're a sweet lass . . ."

. . . or burn you at the stake . . .

"Oh, ow, hot!! Hot!! HOT!!!"

. . . or, just hand you in to the East . . .

"Oh, no, lass."

. . . India . . .

"Poor little me, you wouldn't?"

. . . Trading Company.

But I wouldn't do that, because I need you in one piece for the story.

--

Aw, poor Jack, xD.

Reviewers get a glomping mention, when I've stopped pre-writing chapters.