Screw it, can we just get a script for part of an episode of A-town at this point?
[For those of you just tuning in: A-Town is the shitty postwar sitcom inspired by the life of Jake Berenson, to the eternal annoyance of Jake Berenson. The main character is a kid named Brandon A., who lives with his nuclear family — mom Dr. A, dad Mr. A, sister Daisy A. (secretly a yeerk named Zeptron 420), dog Mopsy (secretly Brandon's friends in morph) — in Southern California at the height of the war. Brandon secretly leads a team of alien-fighting shapeshifters that consists of him, his best friend J.J., his cousin Trina, his sometimes-girlfriend Crystal, Trina's sometimes-boyfriend Liam, and Liam's stepsister Gina.]
We open on the spacious kitchen of a large suburban home. Mr. A sits reading the paper and smoking a pipe inside, while his son Brandon sits at the same table with a large set of schematics spread out in front of him. Dr. A, in a lab coat overtop a house dress, walks into the room.
Dr. A: Brandon, what's that?
Brandon: *throws himself bodily over the map* Nothing!
[cue laugh track]
Dr. A: Is that... Dear sweet heavens above, it is!
[The camera pans up to show Brandon is clearly failing to cover the floor plan for a Blade ship, and that Mr. A is now craning around the side of his paper to see what the commotion is about.]
Dr. A: Honey, our son... is doing... *loud gasp* Dunces and Dragoons!
Mr. A: *drops his pipe on his paper in shock* *lights the paper on fire, must hastily tamp it out* Dungarees and Dingbats? My own SON?
[cue laugh track]
Brandon: Mom, Dad, I would never! I'm just... I'm only... It was... *directly to the camera* I have no choice — they think I'm playing Dunkin' and Dragnet! *to Dr. A.* There's this alien invasion, Mom, and me and cousin Trina are two of the only six people who have the power to —
Mr. A: *very high pitched* It's affecting his mind already! Look at him, he's lost the plot!
[Cut to a set that looks like the waiting room for a dentist's office. Brandon's older sister Daisy is standing near the front of a queue that stretches the length of the room. Like almost everyone else in line, she is wearing a t-shirt for The Gathering; hers is bright pink and cut into a crop-top, paired with a pink miniskirt and platform heels. The walls are adorned with posters that have slogans like "Do your part for the Yeerk Empire today! If you see a suspicious animal: slay, slay, SLAY!" and "Don't forget to sign up your host's friends and family for our Eternal Member perks program!" Visser Six-Hundred is at the front of the line, typing names into a computer.]
Visser Six-Hundred: Next!
Daisy: Um, hi? I'm Daisy, and after you guys lured me into the Gathering by promising I'd get to meet shirtless Tom Welling — which still hasn't happened, by the way — you stuck my head in a pool and then this total jerk named Zeptron 420 took my body? And anyway, Zeptron never showed up after that last feeding, and I was just wondering...?
Visser Six-Hundred: Not my problem.
Daisy: No, I get that Mr. Welling is a very busy man, but I don't think I'm supposed to go anywhere without Zeptron controlling me?
Visser Six-Hundred: Also not my problem. You have any idea how backed up we've been around here since the kandrona shortage started? Leave now, check back in next cycle, and if Zeptron's not back by then we'll call you.
Daisy: Okay, but...
[camera pans to Daisy's face; the actor, does a very convincing job of realization dawning on the world's silliest airhead]
Daisy: K-thanks-bye! *runs for it*
[Cut back to the A family kitchen. Dr. A is taking Brandon's temperature.]
Dr. A: Looks normal to me. Maybe he isn't getting Durkins and Drainage syndrome yet.
Mr. A: Yeah, if anyone has brain rot it's that darn dog. Thing ain't right, I'm telling you.
[Cut to Mopsy, a fluffy grey-and-white terrier. The dog is currently staring intently at a copy of For Whom the Bell Tolls, which is propped open on the floor.]
Dr. A: What do you mean, ain't right?
Brandon: Yeah, Dad, 'ain't' isn't a word!
[cue laugh track]
[Cut back to Mopsy, who has clearly overheard this conversation and has attempted to hide the book by sticking it underneath a laptop computer, and is playing innocent by staring at the screen instead.]
Mr. A: Just look at her! She's playing Minesweeper!
[The camera zooms in on the screen, revealing that this is in fact the case. An extreme close-up of one of the dog's paws moving across the computer track pad is paired with a shot of the screen going to Xs as she hits a mine. A dog's upset whine is heard.]
Brandon: Come on, she's not even doing well.
J.J.: *in voiceover meant to indicate thought-speak* You try avoiding mines with these tiny paws, loser!
Dr. A: You know, maybe we should get that checked out.
J.J.: VET? Not the vet!
Brandon: *out loud* Don’t be such a baby! Get control of your morph, man!
Dr. A: Then again, maybe the Dungenous Drags are getting to him.
Brandon: Uh, I mean...
J.J.: *runs for it* Bye!
Brandon: I mean, after her!
[While Dr. and Mr. A chase "Mopsy" around the house, J.J. maneuvers Brandon into being the only one in the room when he demorphs. Brandon has to hastily morph into Mopsy to avoid being found out. Trina and Liam stop by Brandon's house to ask Brandon a question, and Brandon maneuvers Liam into being Mopsy just as Mr. A is pulling out the pet carrier. But then human Trina rushes into the room, creating a diversion by claiming a "hairspray emergency", and Mopsy runs off. It's at that point that the B plot intersects with the A plot.]
[Daisy walks into the house. She's wearing black skinny jeans, fingerless gloves, and rainbow hair extensions. There's pop punk music blasting from the giant headphones slung around her neck.]
Mr. A: Get the— *watches Mopsy escape out the front door* Dang it!
Daisy: Dad, you might have noticed I’ve been going through some changes lately. Like I’m becoming a whole different person.
Mr. A: Honey, at your age, it's perfectly normal.
[Mr. A pulls out a box of tampons, seemingly from nowhere, and hands them to Daisy.]
[cue laugh track]
[Liam-as-Mopsy runs around the side of the house, now pursued by J.J. Trina is running after J.J.; together they complete two entire loops of the house. Meanwhile, Brandon is on the phone inside, everyone else passing by in the background. There's presumably an unseen swap, because Liam-as-a-human is seen chasing a different Mopsy, pursued by an enraged-looking Trina who is now holding a knife, while she is in turn pursued by Gina, who appears to be trying to talk her down. There's no audible dialogue, but we cut to Crystal on the other end of the phone, standing in her living room.]
Crystal:... got it! *hangs up the phone* *yells up the stairs* Hey, Mom?
Crystal's Mom: *enters the room* Yes, Crystal?
Crystal: You're looking a little unwell. Why don't you...
[Crystal touches her mom's arm. We hear the tinkling piano notes used to indicate someone is being acquired, and glitter effects briefly fill the screen.]
Crystal's Mom: Now that you mention it...
[She passes out onto the couch, apparently as a side effect of being acquired. This has never happened before, but with this show it's generally best to avoid asking too many questions.]
[Cut back to the A house. Daisy and Dr. A are standing in the kitchen.]
Daisy: Mom, do you ever feel like the whole world's out to get you? Like, do you ever suspect there's a giant conspiracy of alien invaders who are...
Dr. A: *distracted* Oh honey, did you get passed up to be Prom Queen again?
[Dr. A drops a kiss on Daisy's head, before running off in pursuit of Mopsy, who has gotten ahold of the knife and is trying to use it to pick the lock on the back door.]
[Cut to the exterior, where Liam and Brandon are watching the knife blade repeatedly stab through the door six inches off the ground.]
Brandon: You cheated on her again?
Liam: *sighs* Yeah, I cheated on her again.
[Cut back to the interior. Cue ominous music, as the chase speeds up. We see Trina-as-human again, gloating over who we can only assume is Liam-as-Mopsy. They struggle, and she makes an exaggerated face of shock as the dog is meant to have bitten her. Mopsy goes running off again, only to be caught by J.J. There's a scuffle, they roll behind the bushes, and a human Liam emerges holding J.J.-as-Mopsy. Brandon comes running outside with an expression of horror, and Gina dive-tackles both Liam and J.J.-as-Mopsy. Using extreme close-ups, we get only tiny hints of the scuffle, but the human J.J. and Liam would suggest that Gina has now ended up as Mopsy.]
[The montage sequence becomes something straight out of Scooby Doo, with all of the characters sprinting between doors and various mini-encounters including one where two copies of Mopsy are seen backing into each other and yapping in horror, running off in opposite directions before Dr. A can see their error. Why anyone is bothering to morph the dog at all remains an open question.]
[The montage ends with a clang as Mr. A shuts the door of the pet carrier on a Mopsy. The camera pans to a scratched and dirt-covered Brandon, then Trina, then Liam, then Gina... It's J.J. in the pet carrier. As the camera pushes toward J.J.'s fluffy little face frozen in an expression of horror, there's a smash cut to Crystal-as-Crystal's-mom standing in a vet's office talking to a middle-aged woman.]
Crystal: No, I did not lose your hamster — I know exactly where he is. I left him in the same room as Mr. Tyrus's ball python, and... *leans around a door frame to look off camera* *winces at what she sees*
Middle-Aged Extra: Y-yes?
Crystal: You can still see him... He's that big lump right in the middle...
Middle-Aged Extra: *screams* *faints*
Crystal: *to the camera* Brandon better hurry up. If she thinks that's bad, she should see what I did to the parrot.
Parrot: *off camera* And f[bleep] you too, you [bleep] [bleep] [bleep]!
[J.J.-as-Mopsy gets loaded into the car. The music is getting ominous, and all is looking lost, when suddenly Daisy runs out in front of the minivan.]
Daisy: Mom, Dad, I can't take it anymore! I've had someone inside me, and his name is Zeptron!
[Thus, the day is saved and J.J. is snatched from the jaws of a routine pelvic exam by Mr. and Dr. A cutting the vet visit short to instead rush Daisy to the doctor for remedial Sex Ed. Only Brandon realizes what she's talking about, judging by the expression on his face, but the camera doesn't linger there. Instead we see the minivan pull up to the vet at top speed. Mr. A gets out only long enough to thrust the pet carrier into the arms of Crystal-as-Crystal's-mom, and then the car drives off. It screeches to a stop at a near-identical office, only the poster of a dog wearing a stethoscope out front has become a poster of a uterus wearing a stethoscope. Dr. A walks in, dragging Daisy by the arm and shaking her head.]
[Cut back to the vet's office, where J.J.-as-Mopsy licks Crystal-as-Crystal's-mom on the cheek. Cue laugh track. Cue awww sounds.]
[As the credits fill half the screen, we get one last scene of Brandon standing outside Daisy's door. He's obviously nervous, rehearsing a conversation. Brandon leans against Daisy's door and it swings open, causing him to stumble into the room. Cue laugh track.]
Brandon: Hey, Daisy? About what you said earlier...
[Daisy is sitting with her back to the camera. When she does turn around, we get a slow reveal that she's back in pancake makeup, blond hair, and a pink sundress. She has the Myspace page for The Gathering open on the computer in front of her.]
"Daisy": *long pause* Yes, Brandon? You are my human brother, and I am happy to assist.
Brandon: Uh. *slow close-up on his face, as he clearly realizes what has happened* Never mind.
"Daisy": *another long pause* I'm sorry to hear that, Brandon. Human minds are often imperfect, are they not?
[cue laugh track]
[credits fill the screen]
Announcer: DON'T GO AWAY, WE'LL BE RIGHT BACK
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here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!
---
sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)
Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine?
He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?
He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.
He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.
“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”
“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”
He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.
---
Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.
With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.
It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.
“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.
“Sure!”
“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”
Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait!
And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him.
“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”
“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”
The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”
Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”
“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”
“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”
“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.
Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs.
“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”
The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.
---
The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.
“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.
The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.
“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”
The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”
Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.
“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.
“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”
Grant didn’t look convinced, but—
“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.
Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.
“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”
Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”
“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.
“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”
He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.
“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”
He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”
“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”
Grant and Brennan exchanged a look.
“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace.
“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”
Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”
“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”
“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign.
The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm.
“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”
Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”
“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity.
“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”
Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”
“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor.
“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”
“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”
“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”
Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief.
“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”
His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling.
“Good luck.”
---
Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.
Showtime.
“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”
Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.
“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”
The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?
“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”
Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.
“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”
“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!”
As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.
“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”
“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”
“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him.
“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage.
“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”
The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.
“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.
“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”
He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”
When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”
Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.
Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”
“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”
Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”
“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.
“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”
“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”
The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps.
It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break.
Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope.
“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”
For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still.
And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.
The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”
“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.
The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall.
It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.
“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”
A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.
“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”
“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”
“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.
“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.
In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.
Nobody moved.
“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”
Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.
Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.
The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.
“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”
Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”
The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”
Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”
“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”
“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”
He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”
It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.
“You can’t be,” he breathed.
Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.
“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”
The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”
The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw.
“Master.”
---
missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?
original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x
art by @northernfireart
concept: x
scissor sisters sketch: x
sam and his doppelganger: x
writing by me (!)
part one (escape the greenroom): x
part two (deja vu): x
part three (sam says 4): you are here!
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