Doctor Who - The 8th Doctor - 50 - Grimm Reality by Simon Bucher-jones;Kelly Hale

Author:Simon Bucher-jones;Kelly Hale
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Space Opera, General, Science Fiction, Wishes, Doctor Who (Fictitious Character), Fiction
ISBN: 9780563538417
Publisher: BBC
Published: 2001-10-14T07:00:00+00:00

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The Giant flicked Inex up into the air, and threw his head back, mouth gaping open, intending that the falling gnome would drop - plop -down his throat like a tiny piece of fruit, or a& the Doctor searched for the right word even as he flung himself at the monster's ankle, like a Tic Tac, he thought as he bounced off the thick hairy tree trunk that was the creature's leg.

We're little sweets to him.

Maybe it was the impact, however small, maybe it was luck, but the gnome came down spinning, at an angle, and landed a full body blow to the Giant's nose. Wottlewort was small, even next to the Doctor. To the Giant, briefly rendered cross-eyed by the need to focus on this painful speck of food, he was almost invisible, yet he seemed to have magicked up some extra mass from somewhere, because the Giant's nose spread most satisfactorily over his face. He roared, and the noise shook the chamber.

The Doctor by this time was climbing up the Giant's leg, and trying to convince himself that everything happening was somehow fitting in the same room they'd entered. This floor had been smaller, but now the limits of the treasure hall were becoming vague grey blurs in the distance, and the height of the creature that had been able to lie in the centre of it was becoming impossible to fathom.

'Inex, hang on,' he shouted. 'Don't let him get you. I'll think of something!'

The Giant got the little flea between his finger and thumb.

'So, shall I squeeze?' he rumbled. 'What good are you, too small to taste, too tough to digest, thief and companion of thieves!'

'Oh, throw me out of the window, if you please, Mr Giant,' Inex shouted, defiantly. 'Boil me in bitumen and roll me in porcupine quills. Behead me and display my brains on cocktail sticks, and grateful I'll be. But don't send me back to the vile durance of my just and extremely well-deserved punishment.'

'What's that?' the Giant rasped. 'On the lam, are you, wart?

Bothering good and true citizens with your criminal recidivist ways. By my harp's hard tears, I will not see the good law flouted!' And while the Doctor was out of sight, busy with the crucial climbing problem of the groin, the Giant dealt with the gnome just as he deserved.

'Ah, ha! Another sand flea!' A hand the size of two mattresses closed around the Doctor and plucked him from his precarious grip midway up the Giant's sheepskins. 'I was hoping some of you would be worth domesticating, but you're all too puny. Look at you, spindle-shanks and bone.' He turned the Doctor to and fro, holding him tight with only his forefinger and thumb. 'Eating you would break my aching teeth, but what good are you living?'

The Doctor now hung level with the Giant's open mouth. He had hoped things here worked to a pattern that wasn't fully visible to him yet, and that in that pattern, even being eaten might not be absolutely irreversible.

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