...so he took the necklace of dynamite off and threw it in the non-existent lake. The scarf crumbled into ash and set his collar on fire, whereupon the Fourth Doctor frantically brushed at the fire.
It didn't work.
Romana yelped, Sarah sighed, the Brigadier screamed and Victoria shot at it, whatever it was.
The Fourth ripped his collar off and threw it away, thereby resolving the problem. Everyone applauded him for this ingenious solution until the Doctors, as one, gasped in dismay and adopted various contorted poses. The Second even went so far as to fall over.
"Doctor?" ventured Victoria. The Second's eyes rolled back in their sockets for a few seconds before he grimaced and rose to his feet again.
"Doctor, what's happening?" Sarah asked to no one Doctor in particular. The Fifth replied from the bottom of the bottomless chasm, his voice noticeably quieter than usual.
"Great chunks of my past... detaching themselves like melting icebergs."
"What?" said Sarah.
"Great chunks of my past, detaching themselves like melting icebergs!"
"Sorry, still can't hear you," said the Brigadier. "Speak up, there's a good lad."
"GREAT CHUNKS OF MY PAST, DETACHING THEMSELVES LIKE MELTING ICEBERGS!"
"THERE'S NO NEED TO SHOUT!" shouted Romana. The Third Doctor harrumphed, then carried on the Fifth's sentence.
"Harrumph. A man is the sum of his memories, you know, a Time Lord even more so."
"One of us must have been time scooped again!" exclaimed the Fourth Doctor. "And he's pulling the others with him!"
With that, the Doctors disappeared. Their respective companions stared at one another (or, in Mel's case, screeched from the bottom of a suddenly-very-empty hole) in dismay. Then they got into their respective TARDISes, and, after a long while, figured out the basic controls by a combination of guesswork and memory (apart from Romana, who already knew a lot).
The Rose-thing yelped in surprise as a lot of TARDISes dematerialised at once. It seemed that Rose Tyler was not the only villain involved in this odd odd oddity-Ood story.
The Beast was so taken aback by the spectacular sight of lots of blue police boxes (with flashing lights on top, lest we forget) disappearing into the ether that it completely failed to notice the newly-reintegrated Master creeping Masterishly up behind it. As it fell into painful unconsciousness it had time only to feel its wrists being shackled together and chained to a large cage.
Then it collapsed.
That was quite obvious, wasn't it?
--
The First Doctor was screaming.
"HARRUMPH, GET THIS CYBERMAN OFF MY LEG!"
"Excellent," said the Cyberleader of the patrol that had found the unfortunate Time Lord. "Prepare for launch."
The First Doctor kicked the Cyberman holding his leg in the face and broke his foot, which hurt him considerably. He then remembered that he still had his gun with him and shot the Cyberman instead. This had much more of an effect on it, and the Cyberman fell over screaming in its death throes.
"Unexcellent," said the Cyberleader. "You will be destroyed!"
What the Cyberleader appeared to have overlooked was that the Cyberman that the Doctor had shot was in fact the Tall Thin Cyberman, who got resurrected so it wasn't really that big a deal to have the Doctor shooting him and I'm rambling a lot so I'll stop now. Anyway, the Tall Thin Cyberman got up again and grabbed the First's leg once more, preparing for launch.
--
The Death Zone had been quiet until the Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, Eighth, Ninth, Tenth and Eleventh Doctors suddenly appeared and collapsed in a huge heap of Doctors. Then it wasn't very quiet any more, because everyone was complaining, shouting, arguing and other things that make a lot of noise. Not that way, you sick-minded people.
The Eighth Doctor was very pleased that he had finally appeared in this story and made this clear to the others. The Seventh was groaning in agony, still feeling the effects of Rose's horrible skin. The Sixth appeared to be unconscious, and so wasn't making any noise. The Second and Third were having an argument, the Fourth and Ninth were staring at each other in disbelief and the Fifth was helping the Eleventh hit the Tenth over the head with a handy Rutan (as opposed to a handyman, which would have been a bit heavy).
Then the First's screams echoed throughout the landscape. The heap of Doctors straightened itself out and ran towards the source of the noise, which was actually a tape recorder left as a decoy by the Cybermen.
"Aha! A clue!" shouted the Fourth. The Seventh then proceded to ride a motorbike in a Cyberman, causing them both to blow up in a spectacular sheet of flame, but the Tall Thin Cyberman just got resurrected again. The Seventh flew through the air, and landed on the tape recorder decoy.
"Aha! The clue is destroyed!" said the Eleventh. At that moment, the Sixth decided to open a cupboard, but a Wirrn fell out, extinguishing his hopes of making the story in the slightest sane.
"WWWAAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!" shouted the Twelfth as he got time scooped in a rather undignified way, landing on the Eighth.
"Yes!" he shouted.
"Excellent!" the Eleventh automatically shouted.
"No!" replied the Twelfth.
"You will be destroyed!" the Eleventh automatically shouted, and began to strangle the Twelfth.
"Fantastic!" exclaimed the Ninth.
"Yes, that happens a lot," declared the Tenth.
"And now I'm stuck on Gallifrey. With YOU Scarecrow," the Third raged.
"Oh now that's not very nice, Fancypants! Perhaps London's Burning will cheer you up..." the Second replied.
"This time I have to admit defeat," the Fourth surprisingly declared.
"But that's impossible, even for a Time Lord!" the Fifth announced.
"We go over the wall, of course!" the Sixth yelled.
"NO!! NO!! IF WE FIGHT THE PLANET WILL BE DESTROYED!!" the Seventh exclaimed.
"I'm half human!" the Eighth revealed. All the Cyberman gasped in shock. The gasp was so great that it released sonic sound waves, which threatened to destroy all of them, and the Doctors...!
"I MUST COUNTERACT THIS TERRIBLE... THING!" shouted the Eleventh, and counteracted it by holding his plastic Sonic Screwdriver aloft and switching the blue light on on it. The conflicting soundwaves caused a huge explosion, but fortunately no-one was hurt in the blast. The Cybermen ran off screaming for no apparent reason, or at least they appeared to, and finally all was well.
"Right," said the Twelfth Doctor, picking himself up from the floor, "now what do we do?"
"We find our first incarnation, of course!" said the Eighth Doctor. He strode off and away from the smoking pile of wreckage that once had been a decoy tape recorder.
The remaining Doctors stared after his retreating figure in mild bemusement.
"Isn't he..." remarked the Seventh Doctor.
"Yes," said the Third Doctor, "he's going the wrong way."
"But that's impossible, even for a Time Lord!" the Fifth announced. Everyone looked at him oddly. He shut up.
"Err, if no-one else has noticed..."
The Sixth Doctor was staring at something behind the Tenth's head. The Tenth turned interestedly, then went a bit pale.
"Oh."
"Oh dear," said the Fifth Doctor.
"Oh Rutan," said the Fourth Doctor.
"Great balls of fire!" said the Third Doctor.
"YOU WILL BE DESTROYED!" said the Tall Thin Cyberman.
The Doctors jumped up (but not down) and ran off into the wild blue yonder, the opposite direction to the one the Eighth had gone in. The Tall Thin Cyberman looked round in confusion, decided not to pursue the yelling mass of Doctors, and went back to its patrol to report to the Cyberleader.
The Doctors were very out of breath by the time they had determined that they were no longer being followed by a Cyberman, and had to sit on the grass for a bit while they got their hearts down to something at least resembling a normal Gallifreyan heart rate.
"Can you hear that?" said the Fourth Doctor at length. The Doctors listened intently.
"I can't hear anything," said the Tenth Doctor. There were mutters of agreement which quickly faded away as the Doctor fixed his staring blue eyes on each of them in turn.
"That's the point. The screams... they've stopped."
"Good old Bessie," the Third said. Everyone looked at him like he was insane, then several frying pans hit one third doctor.
"Anywho, the main thing is we are now separated from our Eight and our First selves!" the Fourth explained, while trying to recapture the pet Dalek that had fallen out of his pocket. "We must find them, and I propose a split!" The other Doctors looked around at eachother weirdly, then the Fifth ventured something useful, for a change? No, not for a change.
"But I like to believe three impossible things before breakfast!" Okay, I was right the first time. The Fourth made a decision.
"Right, I've got it! Group one will be numbers 2, 3, 4, 5 and 11, and group 8 will be 6, 7, 9, 10 and 12. Now go!" With that, the Doctors charged off towards their targets ahem other selves.
"Clever plan of mine wasn't it?" said the Fourth to his others.
"It was?" enquired the Eleventh.
"Yes! You see, I selected the best of me! Leave those other fools to go on a wild goose chase like fools!" chuckled the Fourth.
"Err, but our seventh is with them!" the Second pointed out.
"Sacrifices had to be made. If I had said he was on our team too even they would have got suspicious," the Fourth replied. The First Doctor whoooooshed.
"Whooooosh!" The elite group looked up to see the first hurtling down toward them...
"WAIT A SECOND!"
The First stopped hurtling. The elite group looked round to see the Twelfth running towards them...
"What do you want?" snapped the Eleventh, and kicked the Twelfth for no good reason.
"I have as much right to be part of the elite group as you do!" exclaimed the Twelfth.
"Err no."
"Err YES."
"Oh?" said the Eleventh.
"Yes," said the Twelfth.
"Oh," said the Eleventh, and kicked the Twelfth again. This muddied the Twelfth's robes. Enraged, the Twelfth began to hit the Eleventh repeatedly, to which the Eleventh responded by hitting him back.
"Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!"
The Eleventh and Twelfth Doctors stopped.
"I've had enough of both of you!" shouted the Fourth in exasperation. "Get out!"
The two turned to each other once again.
"How dare you?" the Twelfth snapped to the Eleventh. The Eleventh snapped back, "It was your fault, you moron!"
"Moron? I'm not a moron, you sil!"
"A sil!? ME!?"
"SHUT UP!" screamed the Fourth. "GET BACK TO THE OTHER GROUP, BOTH OF YOU!"
"But surely there's no point in them going back there if we've already found our original incarnation," said the Second. The Fourth looked up and then down at the muddy ground in slight embarrassment.
"Oh yes."
The crisis was averted. Now that the crisis was averted, the First Doctor began to hurtle again. Everyone ran to get out of the way except the Twelfth, whose ceremonial robes got stuck in the mud. This was rather annoying for him. Luckily, the First decided to land on a large rock.
"I think he's dead!" said the Third in shock.
"He can't be, otherwise there'd be an almighty paradox," said the Second Doctor. The Fourth nodded. The Fifth went over to check on the First, the Eleventh rocked back and forth on his heels and the Twelfth decided to rip half of his sleeves off and also part of the skirt of his robes, so they now only came down to his knees. This successfully extricated him from the quagmire and he ran to join the others gathered around the First.
Meanwhile, the remaining Doctors were trudging through more mud.
"This Death Zone place isn't very interesting, is it?" said the Tenth Doctor annoyingly. "Mud as far as the eye can see! Mud, mud, glorious mud, nothing quite like it to--"
The Ninth Doctor covered his protruding ears.
"Yes, let's all have a jolly good singsong!" the Sixth said cheerfully. "It'll cheer us up no end!"
"MUD, MUD, GLORIOUS MUD..." chorused the Sixth and Tenth Doctors for no apparent reason. The Seventh merely looked pained as they walked on in single file through the boring brown mud. It looked as if they'd never find the Eighth Doctor in this awful place.
"NOTHING QUITE LIKE IT TO..."
Squelch. Squelch. Squelch. Their footsteps made small sinkholes in the horribly-reminiscent-of-excrement substance they were walking in. It smelt the part too, thought the Seventh bitterly.
"SO FOLLOW ME, FOLLOW..."
And there was a flower. A beautiful little white flower. Stained with mud, but what did that matter! It was pretty! The Seventh smiled. He'd never quite appreciated flora and fauna enough, but when all that he had seen for the past hour or so was mud and the Sixth's fit-inducing coat, he welcomed the change with open arms... metaphorically, of course. What a lovely little flower! The Seventh decided to pick it.
Squelch. The Sixth trod on his flower in what seemed like a deliberate act of gratuitous violence and squashed it into the
"MUD, MUD, GLORIOUS MUD..."
The Seventh nearly cried. His beautiful little white flower! His hands involuntarily clenched into fists and he stared hard at the mud as if it could all suddenly just go away.
That was when it struck!
The fisherman had successfully set the hook, having performed a perfect strike. The little trout was put in one of his pockets for later. Then the Master stood up, embarrassed at having been caught fishing by the Doctors instead of being evil. He then ran away, straight into the Eighth doctor, who was wandering about.
"Aha!" the Eighth declared. The others (apart from the Seventh) ran to give him a hug. The Seventh had found another flower and pounced on it, protecting it from the Sixth.
"Hmm, it seems the Master is not the villian in this, so I wonder who is..." the Seventh muttered to himself. Then the villain in this decided to lay all his cards on the table. He went over to his machine, and time scooped Rose, landing it right in the middle of the disorganised Doctors...
Meanwhile, in the elite group + the Twelfth they were helping the First to recover. The Twelfth turned away, so they seized their chance. They ran off as fast as they could while carrying a Polaris, and hid, and so the Twelfth got confused, and ran off towards the scene of the other Doctors, the Master, the little trout and worst of all, Rose.
Anyway, the elite group took the First to a lake to give him some water. The poor old fellow was very frail, having been launched several times allready. They could see something was wrong. He was collapsing, falling to the floor, his eyes closed, and he began to change.
"OH NO! THE ALMIGHTY PARADOX!" shouted the Eleventh, preparing for the reality imploding doom...
The main villain walked over to his machine, saw that the First was regenerating and screamed, preparing for the reality imploding doom...
Rose felt in her new primitive instincts that something was wrong. It prepared itself for the reality imploding doom...
The Master felt the effects of a paradox coming. He hid behind the Sixth, rather than face the reality imploding doom...
The Seventh began to notice tremors in time. He began to run towards Rassilon's tower, preparing for the reality imploding doom...
The little trout felt the rift in time and space increasing in size, and triggered its self-destruct mechanism, rather than face the reality imploding doom...
Rassilon untime scooped the First, sending him back to Susan on Mondas where they were fighting the Cybermen, averting the reality imploding doom. Damnit, the little trout died for nothing, but luckily he burned a sizable hole in the Master's attire.
The Eleventh went somewhere and fell in a lake, thus excluding himself from the elite group which he shouldn't have been in in the first place. The Twelfth came back to the elite group again. He had only been pretending to be confused as he had sensed tremors in time before... oh, who am I fooling? Suffice it to say that the Twelfth is much better than the Eleventh!
The lake exploded and sent the Eleventh flying high into the air, where he was caught by Rose. He took one look at her hideous face and punched her square on the nose, which improved her appearance no end. Rose fell over backwards and hit the Sixth, who hit the Master, who kicked the Eighth, who fell over and hit the Seventh, who hit the Ninth, who hit the Tenth, who slipped and fell down in the mud with a thud. Thus the Eleventh was the only one standing.
"I WIN!" said the Eleventh, and did his victory dance.
Rassilon the Miraculously Undead One did not like this one bit, and suddenly appeared right in front of the Eleventh with a threatening look in his eyes.
"So you win, do you, my dear Doctor?" hissed Rassilon.
"Err... yes," replied the Eleventh Doctor, stepping back a bit. Rassilon had a severe case of halitosis, probably due to the fact that he had been dead for a long, long time, on a planet not far away at all. Also, bits of him were rotting and falling off.
The Seventh Doctor stirred from the middle of the heap of Doctors, as did the Eighth. Rassilon noticed this slight movement and turned to face them instead, which was the cue for the Eleventh to hit him over the head.
Or it should have been.
Except the Eleventh didn't actually do anything, which kind of spoiled the whole point.
Rassilon's nose suddenly fell off and he scrabbled around for it in the mud. When he found it, he put it in his pocket to stick back on later when he had a glue stick. He straightened up. The Eleventh still hadn't done anything and the Seventh and Eighth were stuck in the pile of Doctors, so things were looking up, mused Rassilon. He pulled out a handy transmat thingy to transport the Eleventh back to his tomb (Rassilon's tomb, not the Eleventh's), then stopped in disbelief.
The trout-made hole in the Master's attire had not been placed in a very good spot, and the Master didn't seem to have noticed this. Much like the Eleventh had his flies open for part of The Martian Revelation, only a bit more drastic.
Rassilon screamed in horror and transmatted out, bringing the Seventh with him by mistake instead of the Eleventh. It is debatable how he actually managed to do this, however. Oh well.
Rassilon then reappeared and took the Eleventh with him this time, although he still didn't put the Seventh back where he was supposed to be. The more perverted of the Doctors took this a bit wrongly, but they were duly hit for this grievous crime.
Rassilon then transmatted Doctors numbers 2, 3, 4, and 5, therefore the elite group. They gathered around a table and drank tea together with the Eleventh and the Seventh. They all were very happy, as they were good.
The sadly disillusioned Twelfth was left alone again, and decided he needed to be vastly improved. He looked like an idiot, but that was unavoidable. He was rather silly, so he took 100 common sense tests. He had also lost a LOT of intelligence in the regeneration, so he taught himself everything he forgot. He then was accepted into the elite group, so Rassilon transmatted him. Although he was still vastly inferior to the intelligence of the other elite Doctors, he was now happy. So, after they had finished their tea, they went off to settle Rose for the final time. The final battle. Again.
At the site of the not so elite Doctors, Rose was dashing around, chasing the Sixth while laughing uproariously and tugging his yellow hair. The Eighth was hiding, the Tenth was throwing peanuts at her and the Ninth was prancing around in a circle. Rose finally won and tugged the Sixth's hair clean off his head. Well maybe not clean. She then began to stoke it lovingly. The Sixth broke down in tears when he saw this, and tried to borrow the Eighths, but he wasn't allowed. A wild rage built up in the now bald Sixth's eyes. He charged towards Rose, the only weapon he possesed being the Ninth's leather jacket, he lit it and thrust it towards Rose, just as Rassilon and the others arrived by transmat...
A/N: (Mork) Sorry, but we are going to make the final chapter a bit saner. Our stories degenerate into complete rubbish when we run out of ideas, but hopefully our next story will only contain elements of madness and not the whole bloody periodic table.
