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."
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