Five More Minutes
Disclaimer: If I owned a sonic screwdriver, it'd make the sound AND light up. Not just light up. Unfortunately, I don't – I don't even have a light-up-noise-making pen that looks like it. Ergo, I couldn't possibly be the alien using the alias "Russel T. Davies."
A/N: Heh. Just read a story about the Doctor being a bit sugar buzzed, so I wondered what would happen if he got his hands on some of the sludge coffee my friend makes...
Chapter 17: Super-Coffee (100 words)
"Did you have the end of the super-coffee?"
"What? Oh, no. I didn't know you made super-coffee."
"Huh. That's odd. I made enough sludge for two servings and had one myself. The rest's missing."
"It's probably nothing. The TARDIS cleaned it up or something."
"I guess."
"You did, didn't you?" she asked the living ship. In response, the lights flashed. "Uhoh – that was a rather smug reply, don't you think?"
"Yeah..."
Suddenly, the TARDIS jolted considerably, banging about, and then dropped to a shuddering finish which knocked the two friends to the ground. "Crap. The Doctor found it."
A/N: I have nothing intelligent or unintelligent to say. Although, this is something rather unintelligent to say, so maybe I just have nothing remotely intelligent to say.