And it just keeps going...
Saw this...my first reaction was, "David Tennant as the Son of God."
I still can't get over the hair. And ever since my friend's comment about Ten with long hair, I can't separate them in my mind. It's like Doctor Jesus. Well, they do call him the lonely god.
I'm being sacrilegious again and I'm a baptized Christian...I blame it squarely on the hair. IT'S THE HAIR'S FAULT!!!
We still need a fic about Ten and long hair...oh screw it...here's a short fic based on the pictures I've been seeing, all completely unedited. And....go!
A Hair Raising Time on the Guitardis
Donna sat at the table in the TARDIS kitchen, drinking a cup of tea and thumbing through a Cosmo from 2364. "Sex, more sex, how to tell if your android is cheating on you, quiz about your lack of fashion sense," she mumbled, bored. "Blimey, these trash mags never change, do they?"
The Doctor entered the kitchen, looking a little forlorn by the way the corners of his mouth turned down. Donna noticed that his hair lacked a certain...foom. It was flat, listless, and melancholy. Do they make Prozac for hair? she wondered as the Doctor sat down silently and dropped his chin into the palms of his hands. Depressed Time Lord. Depressed hair. She wondered if the two could possibly be related. "What's wrong, Doctor?" she asked. "You're looking a little down around the follicles."
The Doctor cast her a gloomy look. "You noticed," he mumbled, sounding for all the world like Eeyore, if Eeyore were skinny and wore brown pinstripes.
"Couldn't help but notice."
"I ran out of hair pomade," he replied and then added with a sniff, "my favorite kind."
"And this makes you depressed?" she asked, trying not to laugh.
"I like that pomadel!" the Doctor said, almost sounding like a whine. "It's from the 1950's, stuff called Dapper Dan."
"So set the TARDIS to go back in time and we'll get you some more, silly."
"Can't. We have to stop at Filliab to get some parts for the Reverse Heximeter Chrono Stabilizer. It's been acting up lately, which means I have to go out looking like...like this."
Donna studied the Doctor's flaccid follicles. "It's not so bad, Spaceman," she tried to reassure him. "Tell you what, you make a list of what parts we need, tell me where to go, and I'll get them. You and your depressed hair can hide inside the TARDIS."
The Doctor looked dubious. "Are you sure you can handle it?"
Donna rolled her eyes. "It's a simple shopping trip, Doctor. Have you ever known a better shopper than me?"
"Well, no. Can't say that I have," he admitted. "All right, Donna. I could use a break." He retrieved a pencil from his pocket and scribbled a list for her on the back of an invitation to the Royal Astronomy Gala and Bingo Night circa 2016. Donna took the list and headed out to the shopping area of Filliab.
She retrieved the needed equipment without any trouble. A street merchant convinced her to buy a tea that he promised would "make you feel amazing." She bought it on a whim. On the way back, she spotted what looked like a beauty supply shop. Feeling inspired, Donna headed inside and went up to the clerk behind the counter. The clerk easily weighed at least five hundred pounds and towered a good two feet over Donna. She had green skin and flaming red hair and a vapid smile. At least I'm not the only ginger in here, Donna thought before clearing her throat. "Hi," she said. "I'm looking for some styling gel."
The clerk's eyes traveled to Donna's red tresses and she looked confused. "You no needing it, missy. You hair nice enough."
"It's not for me, it's for my friend."
"You say you want what, missy?" the clerk asked, looking lost.
"Pomade, hair gel." Donna motioned above her head in an expansive gesture.
"You want for your friend's hair to grow big, yes?" The clerk scrunched her own curly hair up and then pulled it out straight so it stuck out. "Like this, yes?"
"Yes!" Donna replied, relieved that she'd gotten through to the clueless clerk.
"Ok, yes, we got that stuff." The clerk retrieved a small purple tub. "This stuff do good for your friend. Very popular, this stuff."
"Thanks." Donna paid for the hair product and rushed back to the TARDIS, relieved to be free of the clueless clerk.
The Doctor was under the console when Donna returned, but he emerged when he heard her feet pounding up the ramp. He smiled when he saw her, despite his limp hair. Tinkering with the TARDIS almost always put him in a better mood. "Did you get those parts?" he asked.
Donna nodded and dropped her shopping bag next to the console. "I also got you a little present." She presented him with the foreign hair gel. "I don't know if it's as good as Dapper Dan."
The Doctor took the tub and studied it. "Donna, you didn't have to do that, but thank you. I'll go try it out now. I'll try anything at this point."
"I've got some Superglue in my room, if you want it," she teased. "Of course, your hands might stick to your hair."
He smirked and headed off to his room. Donna made herself a cup of tea using the stuff she bought from the merchant. She retrieved her Cosmo from the kitchen and started a Polyphonic Spree album. She was glad that the Doctor had showed her how to play music from the console. She tapped her toes along to the music as she thumbed through the magazine and sipped her tea, which tasted like motor oil. "Blech!"
She didn't hear the distant scream of a frantic Time Lord that emerged from the corridor, but she did notice the thud-thud sound of the Doctor's sneakers on the deck. She looked up in alarm as he sprinted into the control room and she immediately erupted into peals of laughter. The Doctor's brown hair had transformed into long locks that flowed down his back. He looked like Jesus in a pinstripe suit, or a deposed medieval king.
The Doctor watched Donna chortle and whoop. He crossed his arms, lowered his head, and fixed his Angry Withering Time Lord Glare on her. Even Donna didn't last long under that look. It was the look that clearly said I AM NOT AMUSED WITH YOU. She swallowed and her laughter faded out. "I didn't know it was going to do that," she finally offered. "I thought it was hair gel, not futuristic fast-acting Rogaine."
"Obviously!"
"Well, at least it's not depressed anymore!"
The Doctor only continued to glare at her.
Donna really didn't want to face down the wrath of the Oncoming Storm, who was oversensitive about his hair. She reached behind herself and grabbed her cup of tea. "Cuppa?" she offered, trying to make peace. Maybe he'd like the taste. Still staring at her, the Doctor accepted the peace offering and took a drink. He raised an eyebrow at the flavor, but seemed to like it and downed it in one gulp. He shuddered and then a silly grin broke out on his face. "Doctor?" Donna asked.
"Donna!" The Doctor suddenly seemed to notice the music, which was in the middle of "Light and Day." Without missing a beat, the Doctor handed her the cup, then immediately busted into a happy dance and took off down the hall.
"Oh, you are kidding me!" Donna blurted, looking into the cup. It was the only explanation for the Doctor's mercurial and drastic change in temperament. "What the hell is this stuff? I couldn't even stomach it!"
Before she could contemplate any further, the Doctor reappeared wearing a full-sleeved snow white robe, reminiscent of a medieval shift. Donna's eyes nearly popped out of her head and she had to turn her back to contain her laughter. The Doctor restarted "Light and Day" and danced around the control room to it, all sense of propriety magically gone. His long brown locks bounced in time to his dance.
"What are you laughing at, Donna?" he called as he grooved past her.
"You look like Jesus, though!"
"Don't be silly! Jesus was a much shorter fellow than me, a least by a foot. Also, curly dark hair, olive complexion, and a tendency to lisp in Aramaic. Hell of a party animal, though. That water to wine trick...brilliant!"
"You...knew Jesus?" Donna was floored.
"Why not? I was there when he was born."
"I want to hear all about that, once you're back to normal."
"What do you mean, 'back to normal?' This is normal!"
"No, it's not!" Donna hollered, irritated now. The Doctor's odd behavior was funny at first, but now she was starting to get worried. "If you ain't Jesus, then you look like you belong in an 80's hair band!"
The Doctor stopped and stared at her, then smirked. In one swift move, he changed the music to Van Halen's "Dreams" and whipped the robe off over his head. It landed on the railing. The Doctor then proceeded to play a mean air guitar, leaping off the railings and the chairs and the console. Donna had to run down by the TARDIS doors to stay out of his way.
"I've had enough of this!" Truly worried, Donna did the first thing she could think of. She marched right up to the Doctor and slapped him as hard as she could.
The Doctor staggered backwards, grabbing his face, and stared at her in shock. His brown eyes were huge. "What did I do?"
"You're acting barmy! Now get your skinny arse into the kitchen. I'm giving you a haircut!"
It was the Doctor's turn to wither under the glare of the Oncoming Donna. He pressed his lips together and then hung his head and shuffled down the corridor.
Two hours later, the Doctor's hair was back to normal (though it was woefully flat again) and he had finally come to his senses. He'd confiscated the rest of her tea and whisked it off to his lab for further analysis, wondering why it had affected him but not Donna. Donna had renamed it Insanitea, because it made the Doctor go crazy. When she told him thus, he'd rolled his eyes and set the controls for the 1950's.
"Doctor?" she asked as the time rotor began to churn.
"Yes, Donna?"
Donna smiled. "That was pretty hair-raising, though, wasn't it?"
The Doctor closed his eyes and groaned. "I think your Insanitea might have a delayed reaction in humans."
"Oh?"
"Yes. It causes them to start speaking in puns."
"I'll take puns over looking like the illegitimate child of Richard the Second and Eddie Van Halen," she remarked.
"Oi!"
Donna grinned and headed for the doors as the TARDIS shuddered to a halt. "Come on, Spaceman. No more hiding in the guitardis for you!"
"Donna!" He stalked after her. "One more pun and you'll be the one staying this time!"
"You never let me have any pun," she replied, before swinging the door open and dashing outside.
I still can't get over the hair. And ever since my friend's comment about Ten with long hair, I can't separate them in my mind. It's like Doctor Jesus. Well, they do call him the lonely god.
I'm being sacrilegious again and I'm a baptized Christian...I blame it squarely on the hair. IT'S THE HAIR'S FAULT!!!
We still need a fic about Ten and long hair...oh screw it...here's a short fic based on the pictures I've been seeing, all completely unedited. And....go!
A Hair Raising Time on the Guitardis
Donna sat at the table in the TARDIS kitchen, drinking a cup of tea and thumbing through a Cosmo from 2364. "Sex, more sex, how to tell if your android is cheating on you, quiz about your lack of fashion sense," she mumbled, bored. "Blimey, these trash mags never change, do they?"
The Doctor entered the kitchen, looking a little forlorn by the way the corners of his mouth turned down. Donna noticed that his hair lacked a certain...foom. It was flat, listless, and melancholy. Do they make Prozac for hair? she wondered as the Doctor sat down silently and dropped his chin into the palms of his hands. Depressed Time Lord. Depressed hair. She wondered if the two could possibly be related. "What's wrong, Doctor?" she asked. "You're looking a little down around the follicles."
The Doctor cast her a gloomy look. "You noticed," he mumbled, sounding for all the world like Eeyore, if Eeyore were skinny and wore brown pinstripes.
"Couldn't help but notice."
"I ran out of hair pomade," he replied and then added with a sniff, "my favorite kind."
"And this makes you depressed?" she asked, trying not to laugh.
"I like that pomadel!" the Doctor said, almost sounding like a whine. "It's from the 1950's, stuff called Dapper Dan."
"So set the TARDIS to go back in time and we'll get you some more, silly."
"Can't. We have to stop at Filliab to get some parts for the Reverse Heximeter Chrono Stabilizer. It's been acting up lately, which means I have to go out looking like...like this."
Donna studied the Doctor's flaccid follicles. "It's not so bad, Spaceman," she tried to reassure him. "Tell you what, you make a list of what parts we need, tell me where to go, and I'll get them. You and your depressed hair can hide inside the TARDIS."
The Doctor looked dubious. "Are you sure you can handle it?"
Donna rolled her eyes. "It's a simple shopping trip, Doctor. Have you ever known a better shopper than me?"
"Well, no. Can't say that I have," he admitted. "All right, Donna. I could use a break." He retrieved a pencil from his pocket and scribbled a list for her on the back of an invitation to the Royal Astronomy Gala and Bingo Night circa 2016. Donna took the list and headed out to the shopping area of Filliab.
She retrieved the needed equipment without any trouble. A street merchant convinced her to buy a tea that he promised would "make you feel amazing." She bought it on a whim. On the way back, she spotted what looked like a beauty supply shop. Feeling inspired, Donna headed inside and went up to the clerk behind the counter. The clerk easily weighed at least five hundred pounds and towered a good two feet over Donna. She had green skin and flaming red hair and a vapid smile. At least I'm not the only ginger in here, Donna thought before clearing her throat. "Hi," she said. "I'm looking for some styling gel."
The clerk's eyes traveled to Donna's red tresses and she looked confused. "You no needing it, missy. You hair nice enough."
"It's not for me, it's for my friend."
"You say you want what, missy?" the clerk asked, looking lost.
"Pomade, hair gel." Donna motioned above her head in an expansive gesture.
"You want for your friend's hair to grow big, yes?" The clerk scrunched her own curly hair up and then pulled it out straight so it stuck out. "Like this, yes?"
"Yes!" Donna replied, relieved that she'd gotten through to the clueless clerk.
"Ok, yes, we got that stuff." The clerk retrieved a small purple tub. "This stuff do good for your friend. Very popular, this stuff."
"Thanks." Donna paid for the hair product and rushed back to the TARDIS, relieved to be free of the clueless clerk.
The Doctor was under the console when Donna returned, but he emerged when he heard her feet pounding up the ramp. He smiled when he saw her, despite his limp hair. Tinkering with the TARDIS almost always put him in a better mood. "Did you get those parts?" he asked.
Donna nodded and dropped her shopping bag next to the console. "I also got you a little present." She presented him with the foreign hair gel. "I don't know if it's as good as Dapper Dan."
The Doctor took the tub and studied it. "Donna, you didn't have to do that, but thank you. I'll go try it out now. I'll try anything at this point."
"I've got some Superglue in my room, if you want it," she teased. "Of course, your hands might stick to your hair."
He smirked and headed off to his room. Donna made herself a cup of tea using the stuff she bought from the merchant. She retrieved her Cosmo from the kitchen and started a Polyphonic Spree album. She was glad that the Doctor had showed her how to play music from the console. She tapped her toes along to the music as she thumbed through the magazine and sipped her tea, which tasted like motor oil. "Blech!"
She didn't hear the distant scream of a frantic Time Lord that emerged from the corridor, but she did notice the thud-thud sound of the Doctor's sneakers on the deck. She looked up in alarm as he sprinted into the control room and she immediately erupted into peals of laughter. The Doctor's brown hair had transformed into long locks that flowed down his back. He looked like Jesus in a pinstripe suit, or a deposed medieval king.
The Doctor watched Donna chortle and whoop. He crossed his arms, lowered his head, and fixed his Angry Withering Time Lord Glare on her. Even Donna didn't last long under that look. It was the look that clearly said I AM NOT AMUSED WITH YOU. She swallowed and her laughter faded out. "I didn't know it was going to do that," she finally offered. "I thought it was hair gel, not futuristic fast-acting Rogaine."
"Obviously!"
"Well, at least it's not depressed anymore!"
The Doctor only continued to glare at her.
Donna really didn't want to face down the wrath of the Oncoming Storm, who was oversensitive about his hair. She reached behind herself and grabbed her cup of tea. "Cuppa?" she offered, trying to make peace. Maybe he'd like the taste. Still staring at her, the Doctor accepted the peace offering and took a drink. He raised an eyebrow at the flavor, but seemed to like it and downed it in one gulp. He shuddered and then a silly grin broke out on his face. "Doctor?" Donna asked.
"Donna!" The Doctor suddenly seemed to notice the music, which was in the middle of "Light and Day." Without missing a beat, the Doctor handed her the cup, then immediately busted into a happy dance and took off down the hall.
"Oh, you are kidding me!" Donna blurted, looking into the cup. It was the only explanation for the Doctor's mercurial and drastic change in temperament. "What the hell is this stuff? I couldn't even stomach it!"
Before she could contemplate any further, the Doctor reappeared wearing a full-sleeved snow white robe, reminiscent of a medieval shift. Donna's eyes nearly popped out of her head and she had to turn her back to contain her laughter. The Doctor restarted "Light and Day" and danced around the control room to it, all sense of propriety magically gone. His long brown locks bounced in time to his dance.
"What are you laughing at, Donna?" he called as he grooved past her.
"You look like Jesus, though!"
"Don't be silly! Jesus was a much shorter fellow than me, a least by a foot. Also, curly dark hair, olive complexion, and a tendency to lisp in Aramaic. Hell of a party animal, though. That water to wine trick...brilliant!"
"You...knew Jesus?" Donna was floored.
"Why not? I was there when he was born."
"I want to hear all about that, once you're back to normal."
"What do you mean, 'back to normal?' This is normal!"
"No, it's not!" Donna hollered, irritated now. The Doctor's odd behavior was funny at first, but now she was starting to get worried. "If you ain't Jesus, then you look like you belong in an 80's hair band!"
The Doctor stopped and stared at her, then smirked. In one swift move, he changed the music to Van Halen's "Dreams" and whipped the robe off over his head. It landed on the railing. The Doctor then proceeded to play a mean air guitar, leaping off the railings and the chairs and the console. Donna had to run down by the TARDIS doors to stay out of his way.
"I've had enough of this!" Truly worried, Donna did the first thing she could think of. She marched right up to the Doctor and slapped him as hard as she could.
The Doctor staggered backwards, grabbing his face, and stared at her in shock. His brown eyes were huge. "What did I do?"
"You're acting barmy! Now get your skinny arse into the kitchen. I'm giving you a haircut!"
It was the Doctor's turn to wither under the glare of the Oncoming Donna. He pressed his lips together and then hung his head and shuffled down the corridor.
Two hours later, the Doctor's hair was back to normal (though it was woefully flat again) and he had finally come to his senses. He'd confiscated the rest of her tea and whisked it off to his lab for further analysis, wondering why it had affected him but not Donna. Donna had renamed it Insanitea, because it made the Doctor go crazy. When she told him thus, he'd rolled his eyes and set the controls for the 1950's.
"Doctor?" she asked as the time rotor began to churn.
"Yes, Donna?"
Donna smiled. "That was pretty hair-raising, though, wasn't it?"
The Doctor closed his eyes and groaned. "I think your Insanitea might have a delayed reaction in humans."
"Oh?"
"Yes. It causes them to start speaking in puns."
"I'll take puns over looking like the illegitimate child of Richard the Second and Eddie Van Halen," she remarked.
"Oi!"
Donna grinned and headed for the doors as the TARDIS shuddered to a halt. "Come on, Spaceman. No more hiding in the guitardis for you!"
"Donna!" He stalked after her. "One more pun and you'll be the one staying this time!"
"You never let me have any pun," she replied, before swinging the door open and dashing outside.