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3 · minute · fiction


Deliberately ignoring the chaos outside, the Torchwood director…

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Deliberately ignoring the chaos outside, the Torchwood director stood his ground under the Doctors querulous cross-questioning. ‘We had no choice! You weren’t here and… well, what other options did we have? The Daleks were killing indiscriminately!’

‘Didn’t I warn you? Don’t use the Gamma-laser, I said. I’m sure I said that’. The doctor looked briefly at his assistant who nodded in affirmation. ‘Ha! See! Proof!

‘But it was the only thing that could get through their casings!’

‘So you went ahead and used it anyway?’

The solid steel doors to the room sagged as though battered by heavy, deafening, blows. ‘Yes – and it worked. Thousands upon thousands of Daleks were incapacitated!’

Temporarily’ finished the doctor. ‘You do realise that a Dalek is designed to be angry all the time, don’t you?’

Flinching as the hinges strained to their breaking point, the director finally cracked ‘Yes? So what?’

‘Well, it’s the missing factor, isn’t it? - Just ask Dr…’With a deafening screech, the doors flew across the room, forcing everyone to take cover. Outside, a gigantic super-muscular green form tried to squeeze into the room, whilst it bellowed “DALEK SMASH PUNY TORCH WOOD HUMANS!”

Avoiding the lashing tentacles, the doctor drew his screwdriver and smiled at the cowering form of the Director. ‘Banner. Look at Dr Banners work next time, eh?’

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