The Doctor Who is With Absolute Utmost Certainty Very Definitely Going To Die

In this absolutely unprecedented story, proof is presented that the Doctor Who (12) is most definitely going to die, and not just regenerate but die the proper normal way. Prophecies, time travelly predestination, ominous songs, flashing neon signs and repeated promising from Stefan Moffitt all indicate that Doctor Twelve is seriously going to Super Die Forever Plus (TM). At one point the Doctor Who (13) even shows up and confirms it. To quote, "Ah yes, I remember when I died forever and ever and never came back in any way shape or form. It was horrible." How could The Doctor Who possibly get out of this one?

Archivist: Braniac Nutjob

The Deck of Cards

During the interminable Doctor Who 50th anniversary celebrations, a bunch of Whovians had been on a long hike and they arrived at the Doctor Who convention. The next day, being Doctor Who Day, they logged onto Outpost Gallybollox to worship the Lord of Time.

A moderator commanded the Whovians, and after an administrator had laid down some ground rules, the text was taken up next. Those of the boys who had Doctor Who Annuals took them out, but this one boy had only a deck of cards, so he spread them out.

The administrator saw the cards and said, “Whovian, put away those cards, cheersjonblum.”

After the nit-picking, point-scoring and abusive to-and-fro on the forum was over, the Whovian was taken prisoner and brought before the Forum Director. And the Forum Director said to the administrator, “why have you brought this man here?”

“For playing cards on the forum, sir, cheersjonblum.”

“And what have you to say for yourself, son?”

“Much, sir,” replied the Whovian.

The Forum Director said, “I hope so, for if not I shall ban you more than any man, except Garr, was ever banned.”

The Whovian said, "Sir, I have been on the booze now for about six days. I have neither a Doctor Who Annual nor that self-indulgent RTD book, but I hope to satisfy you, sir, with the purity of my intentions."

And with that, the boy started his story: "You see sir, when I look at the Ace in my deck of cards, it reminds me of Ace the companion, because that’s a bit bleedin’ obvious, isn’t it.

“And the Deuce makes me wonder what the deuce the Moff is up to with his convoluted plots. (He really must go).

“When I see the Three, I think of the holy JNT and also our great leader, Jon Pertwee.

“And when I look at the Four, I think of the curly-haired clown who did the Devil’s work and breached the gospel as set down by the mighty Pert.

“And when I see the Five, it reminds me of that cricket-clothed, wet-behind-the-ears boy of a Doctor whose only good deed was to ensure the odious Adric perished in a crashing spaceship.

“When I see the Six, I think “what the fuck was the holy JNT thinking?”, but then it occurs to me that perhaps he was naked on the blower to Blue Peter at the time.

“When I see the Seven, it reminds me that every seven days, during the appointed season, we are obliged to watch more of the Moff’s nonsense, though there is the occasional gem written by someone else, I’ll grant you. Oh, and I also think of the spoon-playing buffoon.

“And when I see the Eight, I think of the eighth Doctor, Paul McGann, his Hollywood movie testament to his greatness, and ensuring that he lived on only in fanfic until he got killed off on the red button only recently by our digital overlords.

“And when I see the Nine, I get all confused because I used to think of the Eccles Cake because he was Doctor Nine, but now the Moff has changed all the numbering and Nine seems to be John Hurtwee, so now I choose to think of Satellite Nine instead.

“When I see the Ten, I think of David Ten-inch, who was also Doctor Ten before the great numbering fiasco.

“When I see the King, I think f**King hell, how much more of this nonsense can the Moff inflict on we long-suffering fans who gather each week in the presence of the Lord of Time.

“And when I see the Queen, I think of the Blessed Rusty, who restored our favourite TV show to greatness before Muffty got his hands on it. And the Jack is Captain Jack, the immortal. And also a queen.

“When I count the number of spots on a deck of cards, I find 365, the number of roundels that I can quite well imagine might be found on the walls of the original Tardis, though I confess I have not actually counted them.

“There are 52 cards, the number of weeks in a year, all of which ought to be filled with quality Doctor Who. There are 13 tricks, the number of episodes in a standard season nowadays. There are four suits, which is twice the number of suits that David Ten-inch’s Doctor kept in his wardrobe there being a blue one and a brown one. If the metacrisis Doctor-Donna Doctor had the same number of suits, then you’ve got your four, haven’t you.

“There are 12 picture cards, the number of regenerations afforded to a Time Lord under normal circumstances, but hey, let’s just rewrite the rules to suit the Moff, shall we?

“So you see, sir, my pack of cards serves me as my Doctor Who bible, an almanac and that self-indulgent RTD book."

"And friends, the story is true. I know; I was that fanboy."

Archivist: Suthers

The Doctor Who and the Overt Foreboding and Also There's a Mysterious Poem

The stairs of doom. Nothing like Spanish Steps but the best we could find.
The Doctor Who the second sits upon a cheap set meant to look like the Spanish Steps, because it is a very famous set of stairs and the Doctor Who is always messing about with famous things. A bearded man in a hat walks by in the background, never breaking eye contact with the camera.

Yesterday, upon the stair... 

The Doctor Who the fourth is walking through a crowd of cheap looking aliens (hey, sometimes the discount you get for buying in bulk isn't enough) when he bumps into an elderly man who out-tramps the Doctor Who. The Doctor Who apologizes by saying something inscrutable and continues on his way.

I met a man who wasn’t there... 

The Doctor Who the sixth is quite busy being very cross indeed, and asks a nearby staring man what he's looking at. The man replies with the single most cryptic thing anyone could ever possibly say in that particular situation.

He wasn't there again today... 

The Doctor Who the eighth tries to do a clever sciencey thing of some kind while attempting to ignore a man wearing precisely too many layers of clothing who is standing behind him, waving his hands in front of his face and saying, "I'm not being you. It hasn't been long since I was you but I'm not being you. Is this annoying you? I'm not being you."

Oh, how I wish he'd bugger off.

Archivist: Brainiac Nutjob

Doctor Who and the Incredibly Stupid Idea

Steven Moffat bolted down his Cheerios and rushed from the breakfast table. He couldn't wait to get to Upper Boat to jot down his exciting new plans for the Doctor Who.

The horror of Moffat's plans begin to sink in.
As he entered his office, Mark Gatiss was already sitting across the desk. He looked up warily at the grinning, curly-haired showrunner with a terrible sense of foreboding.

Moffat burst into an excited babble. "Oh Mark, I've come up with the biggest wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey idea ever. This one's really going to boost the ratings!"

"Go on," said the slender writing rival, with an increasing feeling of unease.

"You'll love this one," blurted Moffat. "The Doctor Who will regenerate as a woman. No surprise there. Everyone's guessed. But then I'll send her back in her own timestream to meet an earlier Doctor - or maybe more - and they'll fall in love and get it together and in a paradoxy-woxy result, she gives birth to a baby who turns out to be the first Doctor Who!"

Gatiss sat frozen, the blood drained from his face.

"Oh, not for nothing do they call me the Mighty Moff," gabbled Moffat. "Never mind the impossible girl, this is going to be the impossible Doctor. And I reckon I can stretch it out over 13 episodes. Let me think now . . ."

Gatiss stared at his boss with a mixture of loathing and contempt. This overconfident clown was undoing 50 years of TV history. He was destroying the show he loved. Would there still be a Doctor Who when it came to be his turn to take the reins?

Archivist: Suthers

Doctor Crybaby and the Muffin Men

Who broke my window? There will be consequences.
Jack the Tripper: (In silly, deep voice) "Have you seen the Muffin Man, the Muffin Man, the Muffin Man. Have you seen the Muffin Man who lives on Drury Lane?"

Madame Vacuous: "What are you rambling on about? You must be executed."

Jack: "But I know the secret of the Doctor Who. Even though I have never met him. He has a secret love for muffins. It is discovered."

Madame Vacuous: "Then you must be saved."

Jack: "Hang on, I know his name too . . ."

Madame Vacuous: "I must organise a conference call at once. It will give the Moff a chance to re-use his tedious desktop-theme joke."

Meanwhile, in a galaxy far far away

Commander Potato Head: "Are you looking at my pint?"

Stereotypical Scotsman: "Aye. And what are you gonna do aboot it? I'll gi ye a Glaswegian handshake."

Meanwhile in a Tardis far far away

Doctor Who: "So Clara. What can you possibly be?"

Clara: "Oh, I'm the impossible girl, Doctor Who."

Doctor Who: "I thought so. Tell you what, let's go to Trenzalore for a holiday. That will sort you out. But first I must sit down and have a little cry."

Spot of sobbing. They step out of the Tardis.

Doctor Who. "I remember when this was all fields."

Muffin Men: Haaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Archivist: Suthers


A rift in the time thing causes The Doctor Who the fourth slip through the rift in the time thing and meet a lady/girl thing who is hanging around the TARDIS during the 50th anniversary of The Doctor Who's adventures being broadcast on space time visualisers.

The Doctor Who the fourth (dropping through time mid sentence): ...the very powerful and the very stupid have one thing in common. They don't alter their views to fit the facts. They alter the facts to fit their views. Which can be very uncomfortable if you happen to be one of the facts that needs alteri... oh, hello.

Sassy MacFilrtyperkmoffatcouplingtypething: 'Show me your willy Mr. Time Knickers.'

Then The Doctor Who the eleventh dances into the room waving his arms about.

The Doctor Who the eleventh: I'm The Doctor Whooooo. I'm The Doctor Whoooodeedoooo.

The Doctor Who the fourth (under breath) : ...fuck's sake.




(pictured above: envelope pushing imagery)

On the planet Panto, The Doctor Who and Clara McPerky enjoy jolly japes in the type of snowy scene that might be conjured in the imagination of one who has no imagination.

“Oh The Doctor Who”, says Clara McSassy “I'm not going to make a shred of bloody sense”. The Doctor Who is delighted and he says, “I love girls whose general narrative direction doesn't amount to anything remotely resembling a coherent story, just like River and Amy.”

Then some monsters come along (don't worry children, they were just the usual bunch of easily defeated arseholes - this time one looked like a popcorn machine and even made the same fuckin sound when it wasn't dialling in Magneto) and The Doctor Who tells Clara McCheeky that the monsters can only hurt her if she thinks negative thoughts and then The Doctor Who gives Clara McBubbly a copy of the best seller The Secret and informs her that it is the show's new story bible.

Then sad music comes on and the legacy of the irrepressible inventiveness, eccentric uniqueness, and pure intelligence of Lambert, Newman, Derbyshire, Nation and co. is laid out on a table and breathes its last and it rains tears on all of Whodom but no one cares or even notices because it reminds them all of a fun episode of Coupling with a dash of sub-Harry Potter, a pinch of Lois and Clark, and a large dollop of fuckin Merlin or that awful Robin Hood thing from a few years ago that didn't work out.

...and then Bruce Forsyth's Celebrity Dancing Holocaust comes on and everyone is so pissed drunk they think it's still The Doctor Who Self-Referential/Reverential Television Action Hour.

Archivist: Garr

The Least of Steven (we see the better)

It is that time of year again where even we dusty old archivists get all sentimental as we remember the birth of Baby Father Christmas.

And in a tradition that harks back to Uncle Willy's incarnation of the Doctor Who, when he turned to stare out at the viewers and tell them "I know where you live, children, and I'm coming to get you", we break down the fourth wall of the Internet by turning to you, the great unwashed, and wishing you very much would go away.

To help accomplish this, we present this Christmas anthem which some see as Murray Gold's finest work, about the loveable Daleks and their desire for cake and cuddles. His name does not appear in the credits in another timey-wimey tradition begun by Bill Nighy in the Doctor Who and the White Van Gogh Man.

Scholars of Whovianity note that the "Who is Dr Who" title on the graphic accompanying this recording, was later ripped off by latter-day show-runner Stefan Moffit to create mysterious, riddle-type nonsense about the Doctor Who.

Archivist: Suthers

The Doctor Who lands in a spot of bother

"Oh no, John! He's coming back for more. He's the biggest monster of all."

The Jimmy Savile scandal engulfing the BBC spilled over into the world of Doctor Who strips last night after the Time Lord's two youngest companions went to the police.

John and Gillian, who appeared in the long-running drama's BBCTV Comic spin-off, told how they were quite literally drawn into the sordid activities of their temporal tormentor. They complained of inappropriate behaviour by the nine hundred-year-old nonce portrayed in strips when he had them trapped within the crayon-crafted walls of the Tardis.

Gillian told our reporter: "The Doctor Who was relatively well behaved at the beginning when he was properly drawn to resemble the character played by Billy Hartnell on the television. "We would generally then get away with nothing more than a jolly good smack bottom before being sent to bed without any space food, if we had upset the crotchety old fool.

"But the artists couldn't resist turning him into a silver-haired fiend when they began drawing him more to resemble the shell-suited monster from Top of the Pops. Sometimes his appearance became a wildly scribbled confusion of Pertwee, Baker and Glitter and his behaviour became equally bizarre."

John added: "The gruesome Gallifreyan was always careful to hide his vile perversions from the eyes of viewers. He never made any inappropriate advances towards us within the frames of the strip.

"But between those sketched images, out of sight of the comic buyers . . . I'm sorry, but it was just terrible what he did to us."

John's voice faltered as he struggled to regain his composure. He hugged Gillian and they both sobbed as the pain of the memories mixed with relief that their stories of suffering were finally being believed."

A BBCTV Comic insider admitted to us that he had always had his suspicions about the Slime Lord's choice of youngsters to accompany him in his Tardis. He said: "I wish to heaven I'd spoken up earlier. But the Doctor Who was like a god and no one would have believed me.

"John and Gillian seemed especially young and vulnerable to be companions, but I was told he liked them like that. Yes, they were total shite but they didn't deserve this. Adric maybe, but not John and Gillian."

One of the artists who drew the Doctor Who for comics, and who asked to stay anonymous, told us: "These allegations have come as a terrible shock to us. We always drew him as a buffoonish but ultimately respectable adventurer. It is horrific to learn what was going on once we were away from the drawing board and our thoughts must be with poor John and Gillian."

Police said details were still sketchy at the moment.

Archivist: Suthers


(Pictured above: ooh, she’s got a big one)
Named after a Caribbean river so as to make the title a play on words, which is popular with the young people who make telly these days, this spin-off show saw Captain Jack and River Song meet and team-up for a series of adventures involving guns, high-fives, cheeky innuendos, and kind of plot type things. A general public (that was more than happy to improvise its own sense onto the random events taking place on screen) embraced the show. As long as the two main characters kept winking and joshing and generally being fabulous, the public stayed tuned. That is until Chibnall wrote a two-parter and the whole thing got cancelled.
Not to worry though, the two characters returned in every single episode of The Doctor Who television programme for the rest of its existence.




That is until Chibnall wrote a two-parter and The Doctor Who television programme got cancelled too.  

Archivist: Garr
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