A Day in the Life by Ian Farrington

Author:Ian Farrington [Farrington, Ian]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science-Fiction - Doctor Who
Publisher: Big Finish
Published: 2005-05-31T22:00:00+00:00

12.00

Morphology

Ross Strow

I

Deep inside UNIT HQ the Doctor was meditating.

‘Om…’

Amid the incense and serenity, a clock struck noon.

‘Om…’ he repeated.

Jo Grant was walking through the streets of London, carrying several large and bulging shopping bags, most of which were sporting expensive brand labels.

‘Dooby scooby shooby doo,’ she scatted, in her scatty way.

There was nothing as nice as a day like this. She had a UNIT credit card in her hand – strictly speaking, it was for official expenses only – and there was no sign of red alerts, emergencies or panics. However, just as she was planning what to do with her afternoon, a dull sound from the sky drew her attention. Stopping, she looked up, shielding her eyes from the midday sun with her hand.

The noise grew in intensity, becoming a loud drone. Just as it neared its peak, Jo taw that an egg-shaped craft was falling – quickly and directly at her. She ducked into a shop doorway, just as the pod slashed down onto the pavement besides her. A pair of blobby monsters morphed themselves from the orb – at first flat as a sheet, they each crackled and grumbled and slurped and rumbled until they made themselves whole. They had hairy arms and legs, bald feet and ruddy, bare scalps. A tapering tail swished behind each. Their entire bodies continually shifted and changed, a battle to keep their current blobby state.

Jo was frozen. Words swam around her mind but she couldn’t get her brain into gear. A high-pitched ‘Coo!’ was all she could manage.

Menacingly, the two matures slowly approached her from both sides.

‘Oho!’ cried one, the lankier of the two.

‘Yoo hoo!’ said the squatter alien.

Jo tried to get her thoughts in order. ‘Blobs… from pod… on my costly Soho stroll?’ she said. Her words just weren’t coming out right.

It must be the fear, she thought. Dropping her shopping bags, she began to run. ‘So long!’

The creatures gave chase, and soon managed to sprint ahead of her, blocking off her escape.

‘Coy?’ said one of the aliens. ‘Don’t go, not so soon.’

The other impersonated Jo, copying the tune she’d been scatting.

‘“Dooby scooby shooby doo”?’ it said. ‘Song! Song!’ It seemed very excited.

‘Know cool Motown pop, too?’ said the other.

‘Honky tonk? Doo wop?’

Jo was getting bombarded by questions, and the creatures were creeping closer and closer, trapping her from both sides.

‘Why not try to croon prog rock?’

‘Or Snoop Doggy Dogg.’

‘Snoop who who?’ Jo said, confused.

The squatter alien turned to his comrade. ‘Too soon?’ he said.

They were within breathing distance. Jo’s heart raced, her senses reeled. Aliens demanding that she sing? This day was getting odder and odder.

‘Don’t go,’ said the taller creature, with menace this time.

But the other gave Jo a wide, warm smile. ‘Kobolds long for groovy songs from Doctor’s bonny consort,’ he said.

‘Songs?’ said Jo, still unable to get any coherent sentences out in full. ‘Bonny?’

‘Oh, do.’

Thoughts were racing through Jo’s mind. These aliens, what did they say they were called? ‘Kobolds?’ she asked.

The aliens chuckled sheepishly, perhaps laughing at their own bad manners.

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