The Potay

Thanks to all my kind reviewers! I love you guys. And now the long awaited meeting with the Potay.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"If he's using the matter transmitter, then he's within a half mile radius," said the Doctor, talking fast. "But if he was on the surface, someone would have seen the truck reappear therefore…" he stopped walking and looked down at his feet, "not on the surface." His eyes flicked toward a manhole several feet away. "Beneath the ground. Come on!" he ran towards it, and turned his sonic screwdriver on the bolts. Martha helped him roll the cover away, and they hopped inside.

They found themselves in a low, concrete tunnel with dozens of pipes and wires running over head. The Doctor looked up at them. "That's why the potato was vibrating," he murmured. "We're right beneath the warehouse." He turned and looked behind him at the tunnel, which branched off thirty meters down. "And he was right…here." He moved to a spot a little to his left. "Under the trailer. That's why Jack died faster. The closer the Potay is, the more the potato reacts."

"But then where is it now?" asked Martha, looking nervously from side to side.

The Doctor switched on his screwdriver. It was flashing pink again. He turned to his left, and the blinking slowed. He turned to his right. The blinking quickened. "This way. Allons-y!"

After 100 meters or so, they came to a metal door marked MAINTENANCE with a rusted wheel in the center. The Doctor pointed to the red-brown crust around the edges of the wheel, and on the hinges of the door. "It's all broken up. The Potay's been here recently but before that, I'd say this door hasn't been opened in almost a year. Perfect hiding spot."

"So what are you waiting for?" asked Martha. "If he's in there, let's go!"

The Doctor opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it. He closed his mouth, turned the wheel, and pushed the door.

The first thing Martha saw was the giant blue container in the center of the room. The space was not a big one, and the box took up most of it. It was the same blue as the TARDIS, and printed along the side was the word: ECUADOR.

"Looks like we found the place."

She heard a bang, and a shout that she only imagined would be a curse. It was in some foreign language, and must have been ancient, for the TARDIS didn't translate it for her.

"Who's there!" The voice came from the other side of the bin.

"Friends," called the Doctor. "Martha Jones and John Smith. We want to help you."

"Help me with what?"

"We know who and what you are, Spud. We'd like to talk. That's all. Just talk."

"No one wants to talk to me," said the miserable voice. It sounded incredibly human. "No one's talked to me in hundreds of years. I'm alone. Always alone."

"You don't have to be alone anymore," said the Doctor. He was walking slowly around the container, towards the source of the voice.

"Will you help me find them, then? Will you help me find my toes?"

"Spud, your toes are long gone," said the Doctor sadly. "They landed on this planet over five hundred years ago, they're bound to have been eaten by now."

"Eaten!" Spud wailed. "Humans eating my toes!"

"It's disgusting," Martha agreed. "But you know what humans are like. Come on, cheer up."

She edged around the corner, but Spud cried, "No! Don't look at me! I'm hideous!"

"What do Potay look like?" Martha whispered to the Doctor.

"Imagine the Slitheen, but more…lumpy. And brown," the Doctor whispered back."

"What are Slitheen?"

"Ah, right. Wrong you. Okay, imagine…Mr. Potatohead, only mushy. And eight feet tall."

"Ah," Martha nodded, trying to keep a straight face.

"Spud," the Doctor continued, now louder, "Listen, I know you're upset, but you must leave this planet. All the potatoes descended from your toes are reacting to your presence, and the people who eat them will die. I know you don't want that. I can help you get to a different planet, you can start again."

"A refugee planet is what you mean," Spud grumbled. "The Potay were a proud race, John Smith. We are still pure, even if I am the only one left. I will not stoop to a potpourri of lesser beings."

"Your pride will be your downfall, Spud. The Potay were proud, but now they are gone, and their legacy rests with you. Will you be the one to see its total destruction?"

"Is that a threat, John Smith?" said Spud's voice, soft and deadly.

"Your presence here will cause thousands of deaths," said the Doctor. "I cannot allow that to happen. Please, let me take you somewhere where the noble Potay race may live on. There is nothing for you here."

"I must find my toes!" Spud bellowed. The ground beneath their feet trembled with his voice. "I must breed again!"

"Your toes are gone, Spud," said the Doctor firmly. "Your only hope now is to resettle on a new planet. Start a new race. Please, Spud. Go in peace." He took another step forward around the box. "Spud?"

"Don't look at me!"

The Doctor and Martha rounded the corner.

"Oh."

Yup, that's a cliffhanger. Like when you're hanging off the edge of a cliff with a fraying rope and all you've got is a half-full bottle of Gatorade, a tennis racket, and a stuffed cat named Daisy. That's what this is like. However, the important part is HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY! And I would like everyone to know that I have a green velvety mustache which I intend to wear every day this week. So, despite my best efforts to remain anonymous, if you happen to live in my city and see a person walking around wearing a green velvety mustache, you will know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am that person. Unless that person is a fat old man, because I'm not one of those. Nor am I Johnny Depp. Most of the times.

Stay tuned for the next chapter, entitled, "Chapter 6".