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vocab_drabblesTitle: 'The Crustulaphiles'
Fandom: Doctor Who
Author:but_can_i_be_trusted
Rating: G
Word Count: 297
Characters/Pairings: Eleventh Doctor, Amy Pond, Rory Williams
Warnings: None
Notes: Crossposted in mildly abbreviated form todrabble_zone
Summary: "What do we do about it?"
"It's about time you got here," Amy shouted. Snatching the Doctor by the collar of his coat, she dragged him into the house.
"Ouch! Pond, that really hurts," he scolded, smacking at her hand. "Let go of me!"
She released him, pointing an accusing finger in his face. "Why don't you ever answer your phone?! If you're going to have one in the TARDIS, you might as well use it!"
Befuddled, the Doctor adjusted his collar, making sure that his tie had remained unscathed. "It's really rather more of an emergency line," he explained, his words almost drowned out by a sudden metallic clanging coming from the direction of the kitchen.
Amy got behind him and shoved. "Damn it, Raggedy Man, this is an emergency!"
On reaching the kitchen, the Doctor held in a laugh. Rory stood there, armed with a spatula, wielding a platter like a shield. A pot rested precariously on his head, a makeshift helmet.
"Rory, have you been knighted," he asked.
"The toaster's run amok," Rory explained. The smell of charred toast filled the air, and the device jumped when he tried to approach it.
The Doctor nudged him aside, scanning the toaster. "Not to worry. You've simply got a minor Crustulaphile infestation. They like crumbs of any sort, particularly if they're burned. Perfectly harmless, this lot, though I can see where you'd be a bit alarmed. You'd be surprised at how much alleged 'poltergeist' activity is simply the result of Crustulaphiles looking for a quick snack."
"Okay..." Rory swallowed, getting between the toaster and Amy protectively. "What do we do about it?"
"Just give them what they want," the Doctor advised. "Once they're finished, they'll move on to your neighbors' homes. They're more the eat-and-run sort than long-term inhabitants."
Fandom: Doctor Who
Author:
but_can_i_be_trustedRating: G
Word Count: 297
Characters/Pairings: Eleventh Doctor, Amy Pond, Rory Williams
Warnings: None
Notes: Crossposted in mildly abbreviated form to
drabble_zoneSummary: "What do we do about it?"
"It's about time you got here," Amy shouted. Snatching the Doctor by the collar of his coat, she dragged him into the house.
"Ouch! Pond, that really hurts," he scolded, smacking at her hand. "Let go of me!"
She released him, pointing an accusing finger in his face. "Why don't you ever answer your phone?! If you're going to have one in the TARDIS, you might as well use it!"
Befuddled, the Doctor adjusted his collar, making sure that his tie had remained unscathed. "It's really rather more of an emergency line," he explained, his words almost drowned out by a sudden metallic clanging coming from the direction of the kitchen.
Amy got behind him and shoved. "Damn it, Raggedy Man, this is an emergency!"
On reaching the kitchen, the Doctor held in a laugh. Rory stood there, armed with a spatula, wielding a platter like a shield. A pot rested precariously on his head, a makeshift helmet.
"Rory, have you been knighted," he asked.
"The toaster's run amok," Rory explained. The smell of charred toast filled the air, and the device jumped when he tried to approach it.
The Doctor nudged him aside, scanning the toaster. "Not to worry. You've simply got a minor Crustulaphile infestation. They like crumbs of any sort, particularly if they're burned. Perfectly harmless, this lot, though I can see where you'd be a bit alarmed. You'd be surprised at how much alleged 'poltergeist' activity is simply the result of Crustulaphiles looking for a quick snack."
"Okay..." Rory swallowed, getting between the toaster and Amy protectively. "What do we do about it?"
"Just give them what they want," the Doctor advised. "Once they're finished, they'll move on to your neighbors' homes. They're more the eat-and-run sort than long-term inhabitants."
