Wednesday, December 2, 2009

8th Doctor - Apocrypha Bipedium

SHORT SKIRTS 2: COMPANIONS # 4 – Apocryphal Bullshit
An Entry in the EC Unauthorized Program Guide Fiction Appendix O' Roshamon

Cover Blurb


Attractive young girl (boy may be considered) for sexual relations and possible friendship. Must have strong ankles, healthy lungs, no family ties, and be over the Gallifreyan age of consent (4 Earth years of age). Ability to say "Question marks are sexy on you, Doctor" in many different ways a necessity. Bizarre taste in clothes may be an advantage and perverse sexual deviancy highly considered. Must be able to deal with traumatic situations involving life and death with no obvious after effects and not answer to the names 'Adric', 'Melanie Bush' or 'Cyberleader Kroton'.'

They didn't always ask to travel with the Doctor. And even if they did, they didn't know what the consequences would be.

They often *guessed*, but he pooh-poohed their suggestions and made those consequences all the nastier because of it. Isn't he a right bastard?

Were Ian's travels foretold in the Daily Mirror?

What alcoholic conundrums faced the Doctor and Charley in Ancient Troy? Just how did they lie about it all afterwards?

And just how difficult is it to get a job in a brothel when you can't account for a gap of several years on your CV or your use of the Martian karma sutra's "The Two Great Sphinxes"?

Plot Summary

The Eighth Doctor has loosened his cravat and is swigging absinthe, "the drink that makes you want to kill yourself", recommended to him by Tolouse Lautrec, who was an avid user of the substance.

Of course, all his paintings were crap and his legs fell off in that mysterious incident with the chainsaw. And his long, multi-coloured scarf was never seen again.

The Doctor explains this to his companion in a long, drawn-out slurr.

His companion, however, is Charley Pollard and distinctly in labor. She admits she doesn't particularly care at the moment and demands the Doctor steer the TARDIS to the nearest maternity ward.

"No sooner said than done," the Doctor gurgles happily and programs the TARDIS to do just that. He then leans back and cracks open another bottle of absinthe.

Charley waspishly points out he had just "reprogrammed" his PlayStation and the TARDIS hasn't moved an inch. The Doctor apologizes, but he IS half way through his fourteenth bottle – he's been blind for the last fifteen minutes.

Despairing loudly, Charley gets out of her homemade birthing stirrups and tries to pilot the TARDIS herself. Unfortunately, the console is covered in empty bottles and half-finished kebabs – and the time machine isn't exactly what you'd call reliable in the first place.

Instead of the Maternity Service Wing on Gallifrey in 5.986, the TARDIS lands in Asia Minor in 1201 BC.

The Doctor considers this results and decides Charley has such a good grasp of spatio-temporal navigation that SHE should do the driving from now on. Oh yeah.

The TARDIS has also landed within spitting distance of Vicki and Troilus, and their 'extended family' of sexual partners. Vicki was the Doctor's first proper sadistic, nymphomaniac companion and she ditched him in Troy when he sided with the Greeks and allowed them to invade the city and screw it up for absolutely everybody.

Vicki is worried that the Doctor has somehow found her and is planning to return her half-assed replacement, a Greek bimbo called Katarina. Troilus and his 'pals' are spoiling for a fight and ready for everything – just, you know, nothing that happens in this story.

Vicki is surprised when, instead of a dirty old man, a Greek dunce and a Blue Peter presenter emerging from the TARDIS, a pissed hippy and a heavily-pregnant blonde teenager waddle out.

Due to the lamentable lack of decent contraception in 1200 BC Asia Minor and the sheer number of sexual partners, Vicki is also up the duff and the sight of her and Charley near each other is almost too much for the Doctor's drink-addled brain to cope with.

"Oh, shit!" the Doctor moans, clutching his skull. "I'm in Hell – and it's full of Charleys!"

Charley, however, has been stalking the Doctor for a while and, realizing Vicki is now working under the name of "Madam Cressida Of The Eternal Vinegar Stroke", decides to pretend not to recognize Vicki.

Charley explains she and her boyfriend are just sailors who happened to travel in a device utterly identical to the TARDIS Vicki knows and also lived in for months at a time.

Vicki, unfamiliar with the concept of regeneration, decides that the weird hippy being violently sick on the TARDIS is a younger version of the Doctor she knows.

She thus convinces Troilus and his 'pals' that they must pretend not to suspect the Doctor's real identity so they can take him by surprise and rip him apart in a feverish Trojan bloodlust.

For fear that they might accidentally reveal these events (which will hopefully occur in the future) they invite "Sam Jones" and Charley to a nice bit of ox dinner before an orgy with melted cheese.

Charley is really up for it, and the Doctor is now so horrifically drunk he can barely walk and now compulsively hugs a bucket full of absinthe, which he affectionately refers to as "Missy".

At they stumble towards the dining tent, the Doctor confides to "Missy" that if Vicki finds out he is really half-apricot, she will kick him right where it hurts.

He then breaks down in tears when, in order to dull the agony of her contractions, Charley drinks the entire bucket in under five seconds. The Doctor sobs that Charley has killed "Missy" and damns the over-fertile whore to hell.

Troilus and his 'pals' are finding this new pair extremely deranged and rather kinky – and this Doctor surely isn't the repressed old dickhead Vicki bitches about, surely?

Vicki agrees and decides that the Doctor must not actually be the Doctor she knew, but rather a Mickey Mouse robot from 1996, reprogrammed by the Dustbins to do their wicked bidding.

Troilus and his 'pals', however, lost her around 'Mickey Mouse' and are totally confused. What the hell are Dustbins? Who is Mickey Mouse? What's a robot when it's at home? And what does '1996' mean, anyway?

By the time Vicki explains this, the Doctor is increasingly bizarre and can no longer feel the bones in his arm break when Charley squeezes his hand during labor pains.

Amazingly, another barrel of absinthe has cheered him up no end and he's already telling jokes about bull elephant seals and adultery – and then explaining the joke to "Missy", who apparently insists that she understood it the first time.

Vicki enters and starts doing an extremely naughty belly dance the First Doctor repeatedly begged her to do.

This finally gets through the Doctor's drunken daze and he shouts at the top of his voice. "Vicki! There you are? Oh, shit, I didn't get YOU knocked up as well, did I? Cause, like, that would so bring me down."

Troilus and his 'pals', having only just worked out that the Doctor and Charley are just alien robot killers from the future, are totally put off by this new revelation, and ask Vicki for advice.

Charley decides to attack first, with a food-fight.

What happens next may never TRULY be known.

Records after this point are scratchy, and some outright contradict each other in extremely obvious ways. Indeed, the sheer sparseness of information means any explanation is, by definition, inaccurate.

In his unauthorized biography, "I Walk In Perversity", the Doctor explains that, at the moment the food-fight started, he reversed the polarity of the neutron flow and floored the group.

Having proved himself the Doctor, Vicki allows him a night in her boudoir while Charley is repeatedly whipped with lengths of bicycle chains by Troilus and his pals.

Vicki vows she loves the Doctor and would dump Troilus and her child the moment he gets rid of Charley. With a smile, the Doctor picked up his companion (with some difficulty) and threw her into the TARDIS.

Then, the whole "Zig-Zag-Gay-Ass" incident occurred and his plans went awry, but he feels confident that he would get a warm reception in Asia Minor, to say the least...

In her award-winning manual, "How To Be A Complete Slut", Charley reveals she used her mammoth gut to knock down all the attackers and wrestled Vicki to the ground until she submitted.

The Doctor was wandering around, pissed out of his skull and eventually asked permission to fall over and vomit in the TARDIS. Having had her wicked way with the camp, the dilating Charley waddled back to the time machine and piloted the ship to Gallifrey.

She considers the whole Asia Minor incident another notch in her bed post and as another part of the world she is no longer welcome...

In her serialized columns for The Athens Press, Vicki reminisces how, with the aide of some lead piping, she whupped both the asses of the Doctor and Charley, and forced them to relocate her and her 'extended family' to Cornwall via the TARDIS before sending them on their way...

In his novelization of the story, Terrance Dicks explains that Winston Churchill dived in and saved the day, with the Wank Lords, Payer and Vampires held back because the Doctor was doing his Wellington impersonation. After all, there's nothing wrong with a little rape. And with a wheezing, groaning sound...

In their Matrix archive, Freaky Tales From The Edge, the Time Lords deny absolutely everything.

Either way, the next thing the Doctor knows is being completely wasted at the start of "Nowhere-Land" and wonders what the hell is going on and why the hell is he hugging an empty barrel?

TV/Other Related -
Where Are They Now: Doctor Who Tarts Special
The True History of The Britons And/or Underage Sex
The Pseudo-Shackspur: Charley Versus Cressida

Links and References -
Set between "The Rhyme of the Dustbins" and "Nowhere-Land", this story relies heavily on the plots of "The Recast", "The Chaste", "The Wine Peddler" and "The Piss-Makers" to such a degree there isn't actually an iota of original thought contained within.

Untelevised Misadventures -
Charley complains that instead of taking her directly to hospital like she asked the Doctor has instead taken her to EuroDisney and several ice hockey games in America.

Reader Reviews

A review by Dave Restal:

Thoroughly entertaining, and full of shit. There is the mistaken assumption anyone actually likes this fan-wanking-crap, except, well I do. So there. Plus the girl fight was kinda cool.

A review by John Doyle:

'Apocryphal Bullshit' is pretty awful, but not absolute crap and thus is the crown of this collection. Serving as a coda to both The Rhyme of the Dustbins and The Piss-Takers, it is told through a series of wildly inaccurate historical documents and sources.

I never thought there would have been a post-The Piss Makers Vicki story as I didn't know what could be done with it. At least, anything that hadn't already been done with Charley Pollard.

I am thrilled to be proven wrong. And I am also thrilled by electro-convulsive therapy. I get thrilled a lot, don't you know?

Review by Irving Forbush:

Big Finish's second volume of Doctor Who detritus that not even BBC Books was willing to publish, focuses on the Doctor's companions before, during and after sex with the eccentric Time Lord. Unsurprisingly, the majority have opted for the 'Dude, look at the bazookas on that babe!' approach.

Short Skirts 2: Companions tries hard to keep everyone happy and fails miserably on every and all counts. This is not the perfect companion to either save the universe with or take roughly from behind.

A Review by Nigel Verkoff:

This is by far the cleverest and most literate story in the collection. Well, it's the only one I actually read. And the only one which features Charley wrestling with a former companion in a piece that surely inspired The Best Wife.

It definitely has its moments. Whether these moments are good or bad I refuse to disclose, because I find people easily get offended when I start suggesting 'improvements'. Damn it, suggest the Doctor takes advantage of Sarah while she's blinded in The Brain of Moby and suddenly everyone on Outpost Gallifrey is against you!!

There were points I laughed my head off... like the fact Dennis Potter actually thought this was fit to print. Haha. I've cracked up again. The story shows the Doctor blitzed out of his mind on scotch and I'm fairly certain Dennis Potter was as well when he wrote this.

Still, the bitch-slap the Doctor gives Charley at the end is worth the whole wait.

Dennis Potter Speaks!
"Doctor Who? That childish twaddle! I never touched it! You wanted the OTHER Dennis Potter, not me, you long-haired moron!"

From the Back Cover

Father James O'Maley says
"An hilarious story. Sorry, did I say hilarious? I meant... hideous."

Notable Passages

{From "I WALK IN PERVERSITY – The True Confessions Of Cthulu Jones And Not Just Written For The Money When Trapped On A Primitive Planet And Needing Cash Oh No I'm In It For The Literary Acclaim Not To Mention All The Groupies Dear God The Groupies!"}

My plan was pretty much the usual one, to go out and see if we could find some more absinthe and a local whorehouse in a way that wouldn't arouse any suspicions (but arouse said local whores) and then hang around until nightfall to get a better fix from any passing dealers.

It may sound dull, but I've found if I do that I usually find something or other to get molested by before sunset.

We stepped circumspectly out of the Ship and set off in search of the nearest habitation, ready as ever to improvise any number of chat-up lines and flirtatious body language.

As luck would have it we soon ran into one of the locals and we able to subtly winkle out the info we needed on route to his encampment.

"Yoohoo! Mister Goatboy! Excuse me!" I screamed in a thick Norwegian accent. "What time is this? What place of man?"

"You're very discreet today," Mistress Charley told me.

"Yes, I am. Now smile and stick out your chest. My magic tricks need mis-direction and you are just here to, er, inspire his trust."

"But also get him horny?"

"Oh, of course, Charley, of course. That goes without saying. I only wish you could."

Anyway, imagine my embarrassment when we arrived at the fellow's encampment and who was in charge but my old squeeze Vicki (now calling herself Madam Cressida Of The Eternal Vinegar Stroke of course) and her new boytoy Troilus, who I'd never actually met, due to quite heavy amount of peyote around the time they got together.

I realized with a start that Vicki did sort of swear that she would finger my entrails the last time she saw me. I'd only let Vicki go away with Troilus at Troy's fall because she had offered a Greek lady by the name of Katarina, and I assumed she would easily fall for the pleasuring of God ceremonies (well, I was young, I thought that sort of thing might actually work on a first date).

I reasoned it was vital for the tidiness of the time line (and also my entrails) that I kept Vicki and Troilus from realizing who I was. All it might take, I thought, would be one slip from either Charley or myself – accidentally mentioned the words TARDIS or Dustbin over desert, say, and we would be shafted quicker than you could explain what a complete wanker Adric was.

Luckily, it seemed Vicki hadn't realized that I was her old friend, seeming to completely swallow my inventive tales of sea-faring, despite Charley's rather fanciful insertions of hook-handed pirates into her sex life (quite literally too – ugh).

I had, of course, underestimated her as a quick and entirely accidental glance at her diary before dinner proved.

She is into some seriously naughty stuff, young Vicki, and immediately 1201 BC Asia Minor became one of my highest regarded places for a temporal sex vacation.

Oh yeah. Sweet, sweet candy.


{From HOW TO BE A COMPLETE SLUT By Charlotte Eh Bah Gum Pollard}

My recollections of the events ensuing from the moment Cressida tried to rip the Doctor's hearts out are somewhat hazy.

I had been struggling to match the Doctor measure for measure so when Cressida appeared to straddle the Time Lord I was all for slapping the bitch down. But I missed and fell on the table, crushing it.

A shocking melee ensued by all accounts, with the Trojans tearing at my clothes with cutlery – clearly my body was driving them crazy, the poor things.

I'm only sad I can't remember the full details, because what little I do makes me smile quite enough.

It's quite possible I told someone I wanted to lose their virginity but keep the box it came in, and the Doctor was suddenly Exorcist-style sick over the lot of us. I've never really been able to wash that smell out, now I come to think about it.

The next thing I remember clearly was being in the main tent with the Doctor telling me that I was his best friend and apologizing to some wench called Tegan for 'the toilet seat incident'.

I think that's when we starting laughing at him.



"What was Helen of Troy actually like then?" asked Charley as she helped herself to more wine to dull the building throbbing in her womb.

"A demon in the shack!" the Doctor cried, proposing a toast.

"Her looks have gone, and Menelaus only keeps her as a conversation-piece hatstand after he had her stuffed and mounted," Vicki replied.

"He wasn't the only one!" the Time Lord cackled, falling off his seat. "Did I mention I'm half-American on my mother's side? Aren't I clever?" the Doctor boasted, draining his goblet and beginning to snuggle up to Troilus' leg.

"Look, Doctor, I'll let you live if you get us out of this shit-heap and back to Britain." Vicki flipped a goat's cheese nibble at the Time Lord and one of her extended family/the sexual free-for-all hauled him back up to the seat.

"I can't do that! Vicki, you might become your own descendant! I've made mess of enough a getting here Charley young the duff up, the me sending to Britain repercussions of you because horrendous could be. Suggested. Maybe."

Charley moaned loudly and gave the Doctor a bloody nose.

"Epidural time for, eh, Charley?" the Time Lord giggled. "We best get going then. Best get out while the going's good."

"Why stop messing about now? You should have stayed at home watching The Golden Girls if you weren't prepared to get involved in real people's lives. They're messy and not always in the order you'd like and sometimes too short, and they're not always better for having you in them, but you either face that or hide away somewhere, don't you?"

The Doctor pulled open Charley's pink sweat pants and shoved his hand out of sight. Charley blinked several times and stared blankly ahead.

"Uh, Doctor, what did you do that for?" asked Vicki.

"To shut her up for five fucking minutes," he slurred.


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