DISCLAIMER: NOTHING IS MINE D8 -sob- Except for Penny and Jamey~
schizophrenic serial killer
New York City
a woman loses her wedding ring
I'm making perfect sense, you're just not keeping up.
Somewhere in the heart of the Big Apple, a small window on the second floor of a house opens slowly from the outside, the summer breeze innocently seeping inside. A person, clad in black from head to toe, slowly climbs through the window and drops slowly onto the floor.
Upon closer look, the room becomes a bedroom, with soft colors and simple furniture. A woman is sleeping quietly on a bed in the far corner of the room. The intruder moves quickly towards her, a wedding ring blinking and beeping abnormally on the fourth finger of her left hand. Quick as anything, the intruder reaches forward and slips the ring off her finger as easily as one might slip off a jacket.
Then he disappears.
The next morning is not a good one. A knock is heard on a door, and it swings open.
"Hello, Penelope." An awkward boy in his mid- to- late twenties stands at the door.
"Oh, hi, James." A woman in her mid- twenties stands in the doorway, looking distractedly at her neighbor before turning around and walking back inside. She's a pretty woman, with short brown hair and slanted, almond- shaped eyes placed delicately on pale skin.
"I was just, uh," James starts, then stops. "Rough morning again?" He pauses once more. "I could kind of hear you through the walls."
"Oh?" She asks dismissively, apparently searching for something.
"Yeah," he trails off, standing awkwardly in the doorway. "Is, uh, everything okay?"
"Just peachy," she suddenly growls, standing up, her face wet. "The ring. Gone. How could it just be gone?"
"I don't, uh-"
"My wedding ring! I woke up and it had disappeared! It's like…" She pauses. "It's like it was stolen or something."
"Right you are!" Both heads whip around as a British accent rings through the air. They land on a strange man with crazy hair wearing suspenders and a bow tie standing next to an ominous and old- fashioned blue police phone box with an ecstatic smile on his face like one of a small child.
"What?" She asks.
"Sorry I'm late," he says sheepishly, flashing a piece of paper that said simply, TRUST ME. "I was at an insane asylum having tea with a schizophrenic serial killer and a… pimp. Mates of mine. We're pretty close."
"Who are you?" Penelope demands, thoroughly shocked and confused. "How did you get inside here with that—box?"
"I'm the Doctor. Just the Doctor. Trust me, I wear a bow tie." He adjusts said object around his neck. "Do everything I tell you, don't ask stupid questions, and don't wander off."
"I'm going to help you find that ring, because it's probably alien technology that has once again been tracking the activities of ordinary humans to be used as a mass weapon to bring destruction and despair upon Earth and the entire human race. Which would be awfully- very- not- good. However!"
He spins around, seemingly unaware of the growing confusion of the other two in the room. "Even though extra-terrestrials can't seem to understand the prospect of STAY AWAY, no fear will be necessary." He pauses, raising his index fingers. "Do not worry, because we're going to stop this if it's the last thing we do. And, we'll get you your ring back." Then he runs out the door, only to run back and poke his head in at the confused woman and her neighbor. "Coming, you two?"
She dazedly nods. "…Yeah."
Here it is, another creative writing assignment. My teacher passed around cups marked characters, settion, situation, and words. We each had to put in our own contributions and then take one and write for fifteen minutes.
ALL OF MY ASSIGNMENTS TURN INTO DOCTOR WHO FANFICTIONS AND I DON'T KNOW WHY
Wonderful timing~ Karen's leaving, which will leave the opportunity for another [-cough-ME-cough] companion to be allowed to step into the TARDIS. I would have preferred, as I said on my other fic, Amy and Rory to leave after season 5, it would have been a good time, and have another companion come with or whatever, and knowing Stephen Moffat, he'd be able to work it all in. I just hope Matt is able to travel with as many wonderful companions as David was.
This was originally titled "Blimey. Get a girlfriend, Jeff." but I wanted to save that for something else. I actually use "I'm making perfect sense, you're just not keeping up." all the time in normal conversation. Nobody understands the way I talk, ever.
Well, until next time!