A/N: After watching all four new series seasons of Doctor Who within a week, I was horrified to learn that David Tennant is leaving. Of course, I was also horrified when Chris Eccleston left, but Tennant won me over with his very first episode. So maybe I'll love Matt Smith too. Anyway, so the other day I was wondering how Ten would die, and ended up scribbling down a lot of funny ways he could go. Hope you enjoy.
Stepping out of the TARDIS, the Doctor sniffed the city air.
"New York City! The first, the original – well, technically it's the second York…well, actually it's the second Amsterdam…but here you go, New York, New York – September 1995, if I'm not mistaken…."
The many passersby of 1995 New York gave him strange looks as he rambled on to himself. Oh right. No companion. In between at the moment. Well...that was fine with him. He'd just – was that a hot dog stand?
Grinning, the Doctor strolled to the hot dog stand, his coat flapping behind him. From beneath the red and yellow stand wafted the fragrance of sauerkraut, a mouthwatering beacon to a Time Lord.
The line was a bit long though. Four people were between him and the wonderful hot dogs. Well, time to make some friends.
"Hello, I'm the Doctor!" the Doctor said cheerfully to the woman in front of him, stretching his hand forward for a handshake.
She turned to look at him. Ignoring his outstretched hand, her beady eyes looked him up and down before she answered, "Right. Doctor of what?"
The Doctor shrugged, hands in his pockets. "Just about everything I suppose." The person at the front of the line got their hot dog and left, letting the line move forward. "Oh, good, the line's moving. I can't wait to get a hot dog. I love hot dogs. Cybermen of food, really, but absolutely delicious. Of course, you don't want to know what's in it. No really, you don't. Unless you're allergic to Paxicornoplians, but very few humans are. Or you might need to know if you're really an Exdretch in disguise. They're horribly allergic to Paxicornoplians. Nasty buggers, the Exdretch. Stopped them from taking over the planet Yongoslavia with hot dogs from this planet, actually. You're not a Exdretch, are you?"
The woman, eyebrows raised in alarm now, began frantically glancing around for another hot dog stand line to wait in. But then line moved again, and now there was only one more person between her and lunch.
The Doctor plowed on, without waiting for an answer. "Course you're not, if you were you'd be ginger. They always like disguising themselves as gingers. I'd love to be ginger. Been through ten bodies and not one of them has been ginger! Sure, I love this body – I mean, look at me – but still, you think by now I'd have been ginger at least once!"
Casting a desperate glance at the man running the hot dog stand as she moved to the front of the line, the woman said, "Couldn't you just – I don't know, dye it or something?"
The Doctor paused for a brief moment. "Well, I could, yeah I could, I suppose. But that's sort of cheating, isn't it? Besides, some of those chemicals are nasty. And it doesn't always turn out alright, either. I should know, I had a friend – Rose, her name was….anyway, she dyed her hair. Tried to do it on the TARDIS once, and it turned her hair green. Of course, the hair dye was intended for Yongoslavians – their hair has a completely different chemical structure than humans'. No surprise, really. Lucky she didn't burn her scalp clean off. I warned her about buying alien cosmetics."
The woman had stopped listening and was fidgeting with her purse strap impatiently as the hot dog vendor put her hot dog in a bun. When it was done, she snatched the hot dog from him, slapped her money on the counter, and click-clacked away on her high heels as fast as she could.
"Rude, that one," commented the Doctor. "Hello, can I have a hot dog?"
The hot dog vendor's drooped eyelids fluttered slightly. In a monotone voice he grunted. "Five dollars."
"Bit much for a hot dog, isn't it? Oh wait, I'm thinking of 1930 prices…Of course, there were even nastier things in hot dogs back then. Now, hold on, let's see if I've got any money…."
The Doctor dug frantically through his pockets, but the only Earth money he had on him was a 53rd century five hundred thousand dollar bill – and that wouldn't have been enough to buy him a hot dog in the 53rd century, either.
"Tell you what," said the Doctor, drawing out the psychic paper, "This means I'll get a free hot dog, right?"
The hot dog vendor's eyes widened. "You're the Doctor."
"Oh, is that what it says?" said the Doctor, a bit surprised. Well, if that's what got him a free hot dog….
"The Doctor must have a free hot dog." Without taking his eyes off the Doctor, the hot dog vendor arranged and wrapped the hot dog. Slightly unnerved by the man's piercing stare, the Doctor quietly accepted his free hot dog and strode back towards the TARDIS.
Well, that was odd, he thought as he munched on his hot dog. That vendor seemed oddly familiar somehow. Maybe he had met him before? Well, that would explain the free hot dog…..
The Doctor was halfway through the hot dog and had already started to glow with regenerative energy by the time he realized, much to his horror, that the hot dog vendor had been ginger.
I have a bunch of these. I'll be writing them and putting them up just for the joy of doing it, but it doesn't hurt to leave a review anyway.