by removing the head or destroying the brain, an eleven & amy fic.
by removing the head or destroying the brain, eleven & amy, pg
For antiquitea, who requested "ELEVEN AND AMY VS. ZOMBIES". Just a ridiculous bit of tomfoolery. :D (689 words)
“Doctor, just hit ‘em!”
“Amy, you know how I feel about violence!”
“Didn’t stop you from punching Paisley back in Churchill’s bunker!” She swung the golf club, putting all of her weight behind it, and the driver clunked against the nearest head with a meaty, satisfying BWONK.
“That was entirely different, hardly comparable at all,” the Doctor argued, using a wheeled office chair to push back another reaching towards him with greenish, bony hands. “That was a surprise move to prevent a Continuum Drive from turning the Earth into little bits of floating rubble.”
“Oh, and zombies aren’t anything serious, are they?” Amy demanded sarcastically. “They just want to eat our brains.”
“Common misconception, actually!” the Doctor said with a daft grin. “They’ll eat any bit of you. That whole thing with the brains was started by the cult film Return of the Living Dead in-”
“Doctor! Am I going to have to slap you? Just do something! If this lot gets out of here and into the streets, think of how many people are going to die!”
“When you put it that way… Here, take these,” he pulled a pair of very pink and very fluffy earmuffs from his jacket pocket and tossed them to Amy. “When I give the nod, put them on and don’t take them off ‘til I nod again. Got it?”
“How the hell did you fit these in-”
“Pond!”
“Okay, okay, I got it!”
And the Doctor was climbing up onto one of the long conference tables, dodging and jumping over the grasping arms as he ran to the far end of the room, where the speaker system and Power Point were set up. “Now, Amy!”
She slapped the earmuffs over her hair, kicked out at another zombie, and whapped a second across the nose with her golf club, sending it staggering unsteadily away. The Doctor had pulled out his sonic screwdriver; he fiddled with several of the settings before aligning it with the microphone jack in the giant speakers.
“Too bad we don’t have some Queen to set the proper mood!” the Doctor cried over the thrumming whir of the screwdriver. Not that Amy could have heard him anyway, but he wouldn’t be the Doctor if he didn’t say exactly what was on his mind at moments like this.
The zombies began to stumble into one another, knocking over chairs and thumping into the walls. Amy watched them with a perplexed expression on her face-she knew the Doctor was doing something through the sound system, thanks to the somewhat uncomfortable thrumming in her teeth and bones, but the earmuffs had rendered her totally deaf.
When the last zombie had finished its impromptu breakdance routine and lay still against the floor, the Doctor unplugged his screwdriver and shot Amy the double thumbs up.
“What did you do to them?” she demanded.
“Essentially I turned off the most primitive bit of their brains,” the Doctor said quietly, slipping his screwdriver back into his jacket. “Without it, there’s no motor function and no instinctual urges-even hunger disappears.”
“So you killed them, yeah?”
“Ah, but can you kill something that was already dead?” He sighed as he stepped over one of the bodies. “To my knowledge, the only court of law that would sentence you with murder in such a situation is in Halloweentown. Jack Skellington is very particular on matters like that.”
Amy looked at him sharply. “That’s just a movie, Doctor.”
“Oh, Amy. You didn’t actually think Tim Burton was from Earth, did you?” The Doctor grinned at her expression before looking across the room again, the smile fading. “We’ll have to clean this up. Wouldn’t do to let the police find all of this; and the scientific world isn’t quite ready for this virus. Knowing you lot, you’d just let it loose and I’d have to get George Romero’s help again.”
“And here I thought zombies were only in movies…”
“Oh Amy, don’t say that.”
“…What?”
“The zed word. It really has such awful connotations. Not all dead people want to eat the living. Show some common courtesy.”
For antiquitea, who requested "ELEVEN AND AMY VS. ZOMBIES". Just a ridiculous bit of tomfoolery. :D (689 words)
“Doctor, just hit ‘em!”
“Amy, you know how I feel about violence!”
“Didn’t stop you from punching Paisley back in Churchill’s bunker!” She swung the golf club, putting all of her weight behind it, and the driver clunked against the nearest head with a meaty, satisfying BWONK.
“That was entirely different, hardly comparable at all,” the Doctor argued, using a wheeled office chair to push back another reaching towards him with greenish, bony hands. “That was a surprise move to prevent a Continuum Drive from turning the Earth into little bits of floating rubble.”
“Oh, and zombies aren’t anything serious, are they?” Amy demanded sarcastically. “They just want to eat our brains.”
“Common misconception, actually!” the Doctor said with a daft grin. “They’ll eat any bit of you. That whole thing with the brains was started by the cult film Return of the Living Dead in-”
“Doctor! Am I going to have to slap you? Just do something! If this lot gets out of here and into the streets, think of how many people are going to die!”
“When you put it that way… Here, take these,” he pulled a pair of very pink and very fluffy earmuffs from his jacket pocket and tossed them to Amy. “When I give the nod, put them on and don’t take them off ‘til I nod again. Got it?”
“How the hell did you fit these in-”
“Pond!”
“Okay, okay, I got it!”
And the Doctor was climbing up onto one of the long conference tables, dodging and jumping over the grasping arms as he ran to the far end of the room, where the speaker system and Power Point were set up. “Now, Amy!”
She slapped the earmuffs over her hair, kicked out at another zombie, and whapped a second across the nose with her golf club, sending it staggering unsteadily away. The Doctor had pulled out his sonic screwdriver; he fiddled with several of the settings before aligning it with the microphone jack in the giant speakers.
“Too bad we don’t have some Queen to set the proper mood!” the Doctor cried over the thrumming whir of the screwdriver. Not that Amy could have heard him anyway, but he wouldn’t be the Doctor if he didn’t say exactly what was on his mind at moments like this.
The zombies began to stumble into one another, knocking over chairs and thumping into the walls. Amy watched them with a perplexed expression on her face-she knew the Doctor was doing something through the sound system, thanks to the somewhat uncomfortable thrumming in her teeth and bones, but the earmuffs had rendered her totally deaf.
When the last zombie had finished its impromptu breakdance routine and lay still against the floor, the Doctor unplugged his screwdriver and shot Amy the double thumbs up.
“What did you do to them?” she demanded.
“Essentially I turned off the most primitive bit of their brains,” the Doctor said quietly, slipping his screwdriver back into his jacket. “Without it, there’s no motor function and no instinctual urges-even hunger disappears.”
“So you killed them, yeah?”
“Ah, but can you kill something that was already dead?” He sighed as he stepped over one of the bodies. “To my knowledge, the only court of law that would sentence you with murder in such a situation is in Halloweentown. Jack Skellington is very particular on matters like that.”
Amy looked at him sharply. “That’s just a movie, Doctor.”
“Oh, Amy. You didn’t actually think Tim Burton was from Earth, did you?” The Doctor grinned at her expression before looking across the room again, the smile fading. “We’ll have to clean this up. Wouldn’t do to let the police find all of this; and the scientific world isn’t quite ready for this virus. Knowing you lot, you’d just let it loose and I’d have to get George Romero’s help again.”
“And here I thought zombies were only in movies…”
“Oh Amy, don’t say that.”
“…What?”
“The zed word. It really has such awful connotations. Not all dead people want to eat the living. Show some common courtesy.”