Where are they now? For the final time, Olly Lennard exposes you to his disturbing fan fiction.
The Time Lord known as the Doctor was born on the planet Gallifrey in the Earth year 1123 and, due to a temporal disturbance, born again at teatime the following day. At the age of eight he looked into the Untempered Schism, as all Gallifreyan children must, and realised it was his destiny to waste good intellectual property and rich character mythologies making mediocre children’s programming. Having graduated from the Time Lord Academy with a 2:2 in Timeology and Timeonomy, the Doctor stole a TARDIS and made his way to Planet BBC where his eternally disappointing career began. For a brief time the Doctor was stranded in 50s America when the TARDIS’ flux capacitor broke, but with the help of Marty McFly he got back to the future, saved John Connor from the horrors of the Terminator/Dalek Wars and helped Danny Glover defeat the Predator. He never revealed his true name, which made tax declarations impractical and dinner reservations damn near impossible.
Unlike Dr. Dre he was not a proper MD, rather ‘the Doctor’ was a pseudonym that came to him in a flash of inspiration whilst smoking space marijuana and watching House. Despite possessing the ability to travel anywhere in the universe most of the Doctor’s adventures took place in abandoned quarries or in front of green screens. He suffered from extremely high-blood pressure due to a stressful lifestyle and having two hearts, as well as his habit of abusing time travel to smoke ninety Arcturian cigarettes a minute. Like all Time Lords the Doctor possessed the convenient ability to regenerate into a different actor who demanded less money, a practice he grew worse at over time.
Later incarnations’ attempts to be “mad” and cheerily eccentric fit in with the Doctor’s traumatic backstory like an Ood fits in next to Rupert Everett. Attempts to resolve the crisis between the serious and child-friendly aspects of his personalities by creating a spin-off dimension starring John Barrowman failed when the engineers of that dimension got confused and thought that ‘mature drama’ meant lots of people shagging aliens and swearing. The Torchwood continuum collapsed in 2012, tragically not killing Barrowman’s career. Having displayed contempt for history, the Doctor finally closed the loop by giving the finger to his own continuity: in early 2013 he fell through a plot hole and became trapped in a time loop of endlessly repeated gags and tired masturbatory references to “quirkiness” and bow ties. Attempts to rescue him by sending in established British astronauts Derek Jacobi and Richard E. Grant were unsuccessful, and the TARDIS was undriveable due to an outdated tax disk.
The Doctor later met Lieutenant Ellen Ripley and his cocksure attitude finally bit him in the ass when the xenomorph mauled his face off. His funeral was attended by Captain Picard, Arthur Dent and Stephen Hawking; in accordance with his wishes his remains were buried in Uranus, which is bigger on the inside. Throughout his travels the Doctor had many companions: at one point he took Donna Noble away from Earth, much to the relief of everyone who ever saw The Catherine Tate Show. He also faced many enemies, including the terrifying Weeping Angels, wheelie bins with plungers sellotaped to them and limited vocabularies, as well as the inner demons of hurried scriptwriting and low-budget shoots. By far his most insidious enemy was John Simm, who had travelled in time before to film Life on Mars, and who almost succeeded in becoming an interesting and complex character before the Doctor defeated him by trapping him in a clichéd conflict resolution using an alien device called a dues ex machina.
Illustrator: Ruairidh Bowen