Doctor Who - Rose Tyler and the Chocolate TARDIS

[ninedaysaqueen]

Title: Rose Tyler and the Chocolate TARDIS

Author: ninedaysaqueen


Beta: openedlocket 

Disclaimer: No ownership of Doctor Who is claimed or implied. The Doctor, in all his glory, will always belong to the BBC. 

Rating: G/K

Genre: Crack/Fluff/Humor

Word Count: 1,200

Summary: The Doctor explains why Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory is on his list of Earth-movies-that-must-never-be-watched-on-his-space-ship. Strong emphasis on the his and the must not.

Author's Notes: Contrary to what the title may imply, no portion of the TARDIS is turned into chocolate at any point in this fic. (Sorry...) The author is not responsible for any overwhelming urges to consume Wonka Bars or Jujubes upon reading this fic. ;)

Slight alteration made to cannon in the form of the founding date of the organization, UNIT. Written for the banana_crackeri's Inaugural Ficathon. 

I sincerely apologize to Roald Dahl. 

Filling this picture prompt.




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“Rose, please tell me you are not watching what I think you're watching?”

Rose leaned her head backwards over the edge of the settee, absentmindedly chewing her thumbnail and fiddling with the remote's battery cover.

“Got something against Willy Wonka, do we?” she asked, uninterested. 

The Doctor possessed an assortment of black-listed entertainment when it came to television on the TARDIS. One of which was called Earth-movies-that-must-never-be-watched-on-his-space-ship. Strong emphasis on the his and the must not, followed by long, boring rants about Kate Hudson and Reese Witherspoon, humankind's abhorrent understanding of universal law, and other words Rose could not pronounced, let only remember.

Whatever he had against a 1970's children's musical about bratty kids, orange-skinned creatures, a wacky man in a top hat, and lots and lots of delicious looking chocolate was a mystery Rose did not care to explore.

“If you don't like it, you could always break something in the council room.” said Rose, waving her hand behind her.

“For your information,” started the Doctor, leaning against the back of the settee and eyeing the remote, “it's called 'dismantling with style' not breaking. And yes, I do have something against Willy Wonka.” 

He put his “smart-specs” on and glared pointedly at Gene Wilder, singing while his candy factory guests ran around like... well... kids in a candy factory. 

“He's the most unflattering depiction of me Earth literature has yet to produce. Well...  If you don't count E.T...”

Rose did a double-take. “Wait, wait, hold on. You're Willy Wonka?” 

The Doctor sighed. “Don't look so skeptical. I meet Roald Dahl when he was an ace fighter pilot during World War II. There was this huge mess concerning orange-skinned aliens called Oompas demanding chocolate and sweets and all that teeth rotting junk. Apparently, Oompa colonists had secretly settled in New Zealand sheep pastures and started importing the stuff back to the home planet in the 1920s. They were so upset when chocolate became rationed during the War that they staged an invasion.”

Rose stared, flabbergasted and paused the movie on a clip the German kid floundering about in the chocolate pond. “You're so making that up. What kind of aliens go to all the trouble to invade, because they want chocolate?”

The Doctor shrugged and came around the settee to plop down beside her. She hid the remote under her thigh. 

“Makes more sense than the Kiptik invasion of 1982. They wanted lima beans!” He waved his hands upwards in a perplexed gesture. “Who eats lima beans?” 

Rose was about to point out that he did; along with other bean type dishes of dubious origin, but she decided to let it go.

“You're telling me...” Rose leaned closer, eyes narrowed in cynical scrutiny. “That this candy factory populated by Oompa Loompas, the golden ticket, the bratty kids, the Everlasting Gobstopper, and all that chocolate was because the writer met you?”

The Doctor raised his eyebrows while he considered this. “Yeah, pretty much got it there.”

Rose crossed her arms. “Prove it.”

“Alright,” said the Doctor, undaunted. He stood up and walked in front of the wall-mounted television.

“Imagine a version of me with curly hair like Gene Wilder here—thieves those producers. And a scarf and a very awful overcoat—had no idea what I thinking back then. Anyhow, hair, scarf, coat; Mr. Dahl and I were bargaining with some very sugar-high Oompas to leave Earth in peace, or I would liquify all the stolen melt-in-your-mouth chocolate in their cargo hold to runny pudding. I then...” he mimed a handshake motion, “offered them a golden ticket—though it was actually gold foil from a chocolate bar—to receive as much candy as they wanted after the War ended. Given that they were willing to pay for it, of course.” He titled his head to left, as if racking his over-sized brain for more smarter-then-thou trivia. “In fact, you have the Oompas to thank for the technology that fueled Earth's space race in the 1960s.”

“That doesn't prove anything.” Rose shook head. “Except that you're a nutter! Oompa Loompas or whatever they're called couldn't possibly be responsible for the moon landing and all that.”

“They could too, though it was Neil Armstrong that did the 'small step, big step' part. But if my word is not enough for you, Rose Tyler...” He briefly waved the sonic screwdriver across the telly, and little Augustus Gloop was replaced by document scans dated 1942. In the top right corner of each page, a seal reading UNIT – TOP SECRET was stamped in red, transparent ink. Tiny, brown fingerprint stains spotted several edges of the file. They looked suspiciously like chocolate sauce. 

Rose stood to walk closer to the television and carefully examined the documents scrolling down the screen. “No way...” she muttered in disbelief.

“Yes way...” the Doctor gloated with a smirk, nonetheless his glee melted into a thoughtful frown. “But Mr. Dahl decided to use our adventure to create a children's allegoric fairy-tale preaching against the seven deadly sins.” Taking his glasses off, he rubbed his temples and groaned. “Do you have any idea how much money he made off that piece of rubbish? And don't even get me started on the movie. Best original score, indeed! Let me tell you, every time a song came on during the premiere the entire theater dashed to the concession stand to buy candy.”

“Doctor.”

“Yes, Rose?” The Doctor turned to look at his companion, but was met with a site that merited concern.

Rose's shoulders were oddly scrunched together, and she covered her eyes and mouth with both hands spread wide across her face. “You know what I got, Doctor?” she said in a cryptic manner, entirely unlike her usual speech patterns. Had some parasitic mite wandered into the room while he wasn't looking and crawled inside Rose's brain? 

“What do you have, Rose?” the Doctor asked, suspiciously.

She moved her hands away from her face to reveal a devious smile. “I've got the golden ticket.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” cried the Doctor in distress.

“I've got the golden chance to make my way.” 

Before she could get to the next verse, he waved the sonic across the telly and the Wonka chocolate pond reappeared on the screen.

“Fine, watch the movie,” grumbled the Doctor, indignantly. “Just don't mention it to me ever again.”

For the next week on board the good, sentient ship TARDIS, an ancient and powerful Time Lord known as the Doctor may or may not have been tormented by original musical scores first preformed in a Sol 3 children's film (circa 1970, local time) by none other then his beloved companion, Rose Tyler. Who may or may not have been laughing and eating Wonka Bars as she did so. 

This event was recorded in the TARDIS's historic ship log - regeneration ten, post-war era, personal timeline nine-hundred and two. (These proceedings were filed in accordance to standard logbook data commands.) 

Data Log
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Log Saved for Week 86 > Rose Tyler Era 

Command - Erase

Command - Denied 

Command - Resent 

Command - Denied 

Requesting Reason for Denial... 

Request Granted

Reason - LOL

Command - Complete System Reformat 

Command - Denied 

Reason - Spoil Sport

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Author's Not-Quite-Notes: Am I alone in thinking Gene Wilder looks like Tom Baker?