Read Online Doctor Whom or ET Shoots and Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Parodication by Adam Roberts - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Adam Roberts
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need to be snarky,’ I said.
‘Tell me, Prose. Do you understand the difference between he and him ?’
‘Um,’ I said.
‘She punched he in the face? Or: she punched him in the face?’
‘The second one.’
‘And you know the difference between she and her .’ Linn pressed. ‘It’s just like he and him , after all. He disappointed she ? Or: he disappointed her ?’
‘Well,’ I said. ‘Yes.’
‘Well, in that case you already understand the difference between who and whom ,’ she said. ‘It’s exactly the same thing. I really don’t understand why people have such a problem with it. You wouldn’t say I gave the book to he , would you! You wouldn’t say he kissed she . No. You wouldn’t. In exactly the same way you wouldn’t ask to who did he give the book ? Of course not. To whom did he give the book. He was the one to whom the book was given.’
‘Is it really as simple as that?’
‘It really is.’
‘I feel like I’ve learned something here today,’ I said.
‘Here comes the Doctor,’ said Linn, getting to her feet. ‘And he’s walking funny.’
He was indeed walking in a most peculiar manner, taking strides with his right foot and them making little hoppy-draggy motions with his left to catch up. He was clutching his gut. ‘Something’s wrong,’ Linn said, hurrying over to him.
‘Help me inside the TARDY,’ he said, in a strangulated voice.
‘What happened?’ I asked, taking some of his weight as he struggled over the grass. ‘Did you expose the overweight minister as a Sluttyteen in a skin-suit?’
‘Not exactly,’ gasped the Dr.
‘Then what?’
‘Well - I managed to get in the chamber alright, and sidle up to the Minister. But no matter how vigorously I tugged away at her fat-suit it wouldn’t come off. It was only when she was rolling around on the floor shouting, with me on top of her, and an enormous commotion all around us, that I realised she wasn’t a Sluttyteen at all. Just an amply-proportioned middle-aged woman. I think I’d picked the wrong one.’
‘So what happened then?’
‘What happened then,’ said the Dr, as we opened the door of the TARDY, ‘was that special branch shot me.’
‘Shot you?’ I gasped.
‘That’s right. Shot me in the gut. Can’t say I blame them. We’d better get out of here before the army turns up.’
He staggered inside the TARDY, fell against the console, pressed buttons to dematerialise us, and then, with a gasp, he fell to the floor.
‘Doctor!’ I cried, running over to him. ‘Are you alright?’
‘Not so much alright’ he said, ‘as dying .’ And on that last word, he passed out.
Chapter Nine
BETRAYAL !
‘For the last time,’ said the Dr, tetchily. ‘It was an accident . Come come come , how was I to know? It could have happened to anybody!’
‘Dead! Dead!’ I wailed. ‘The woman of my dreams!’
‘There’s no point in getting so wound-up about it,’ said the Dr. ‘I can’t believe you’re blaming me for that . . . can’t you see how irrational that is? Can’t you see that I really had nothing to do with it?’
‘He does have a point,’ said Linn.
But my grief was making me blind.
‘You have to understand that everybody dies,’ the Dr said. ‘It’s the way of things.’
‘It’s all very well for you to say that!’ I said. ‘If you die you just pop back to life with nothing but an upset tummy. It’s not so easy for the likes of us .’
‘Well,’ said the Dr, looking around him in a faintly senile manner. ‘I wouldn’t describe re-un-de as easy. My dear fellow,’ he added, kindly. ‘You do look upset!’
‘Can you blame me?’ I cried.
‘Of course not. Nobody blames you. Why don’t you take a seat, maybe have a cup of tea? You’ll feel better in a moment.’
‘My heart is shattered into a googolplex of pieces!’ I snapped.
‘There there,’ he offered, vaguely.
‘Doctor,’ said Linn. ‘Not to ignore Prose’s sufferings, but: we still have
‘Tell me, Prose. Do you understand the difference between he and him ?’
‘Um,’ I said.
‘She punched he in the face? Or: she punched him in the face?’
‘The second one.’
‘And you know the difference between she and her .’ Linn pressed. ‘It’s just like he and him , after all. He disappointed she ? Or: he disappointed her ?’
‘Well,’ I said. ‘Yes.’
‘Well, in that case you already understand the difference between who and whom ,’ she said. ‘It’s exactly the same thing. I really don’t understand why people have such a problem with it. You wouldn’t say I gave the book to he , would you! You wouldn’t say he kissed she . No. You wouldn’t. In exactly the same way you wouldn’t ask to who did he give the book ? Of course not. To whom did he give the book. He was the one to whom the book was given.’
‘Is it really as simple as that?’
‘It really is.’
‘I feel like I’ve learned something here today,’ I said.
‘Here comes the Doctor,’ said Linn, getting to her feet. ‘And he’s walking funny.’
He was indeed walking in a most peculiar manner, taking strides with his right foot and them making little hoppy-draggy motions with his left to catch up. He was clutching his gut. ‘Something’s wrong,’ Linn said, hurrying over to him.
‘Help me inside the TARDY,’ he said, in a strangulated voice.
‘What happened?’ I asked, taking some of his weight as he struggled over the grass. ‘Did you expose the overweight minister as a Sluttyteen in a skin-suit?’
‘Not exactly,’ gasped the Dr.
‘Then what?’
‘Well - I managed to get in the chamber alright, and sidle up to the Minister. But no matter how vigorously I tugged away at her fat-suit it wouldn’t come off. It was only when she was rolling around on the floor shouting, with me on top of her, and an enormous commotion all around us, that I realised she wasn’t a Sluttyteen at all. Just an amply-proportioned middle-aged woman. I think I’d picked the wrong one.’
‘So what happened then?’
‘What happened then,’ said the Dr, as we opened the door of the TARDY, ‘was that special branch shot me.’
‘Shot you?’ I gasped.
‘That’s right. Shot me in the gut. Can’t say I blame them. We’d better get out of here before the army turns up.’
He staggered inside the TARDY, fell against the console, pressed buttons to dematerialise us, and then, with a gasp, he fell to the floor.
‘Doctor!’ I cried, running over to him. ‘Are you alright?’
‘Not so much alright’ he said, ‘as dying .’ And on that last word, he passed out.
Chapter Nine
BETRAYAL !
‘For the last time,’ said the Dr, tetchily. ‘It was an accident . Come come come , how was I to know? It could have happened to anybody!’
‘Dead! Dead!’ I wailed. ‘The woman of my dreams!’
‘There’s no point in getting so wound-up about it,’ said the Dr. ‘I can’t believe you’re blaming me for that . . . can’t you see how irrational that is? Can’t you see that I really had nothing to do with it?’
‘He does have a point,’ said Linn.
But my grief was making me blind.
‘You have to understand that everybody dies,’ the Dr said. ‘It’s the way of things.’
‘It’s all very well for you to say that!’ I said. ‘If you die you just pop back to life with nothing but an upset tummy. It’s not so easy for the likes of us .’
‘Well,’ said the Dr, looking around him in a faintly senile manner. ‘I wouldn’t describe re-un-de as easy. My dear fellow,’ he added, kindly. ‘You do look upset!’
‘Can you blame me?’ I cried.
‘Of course not. Nobody blames you. Why don’t you take a seat, maybe have a cup of tea? You’ll feel better in a moment.’
‘My heart is shattered into a googolplex of pieces!’ I snapped.
‘There there,’ he offered, vaguely.
‘Doctor,’ said Linn. ‘Not to ignore Prose’s sufferings, but: we still have
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