Work in Progress

This is where the magic happens. Here is where I write fanfictions before posting them on other wikis.

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VWF
The four of them stared at the skeleton for a few minutes. All four of them had seen skeletons before--death wasn't new to any of them. But this skeleton was a little different than most others.

It was wearing a wide-brimmed hat with swim goggles, and the tattered remains of a bikini clung to the ribs and pelvis.

"Looks like someone was having a swim," said Jack uncomfortably. The Doctor got down to his knees and started digging through the purple sand. As he dug, he began to uncover more and more skeletons--all wearing various swimgear.

"They must have died suddenly," the Doctor said, tossing a skeletal foot wearing a flip-flop out of the hole growing around him. "A few hours ago the tide would have been up, and a bunch of tourists must have decided to go swimming. Something obviously got them then."

Oma eyed Jack and Skye. "You two almost died."

Skye shuddered, glancing back at the pink waters.

The Doctor was still on the ground, looking lost in thought. "What makes the water pink," he murmured. Suddenly, he turned to Jack. "How did you first hear about the planet Zambarau?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know. Tourist pamphlets. They're all over the place."

"Do you still have any?"

"Yeah, but they're in my other pants..."

"Just as well," said the Doctor, hopping up and looking excited for the first time today. "You can't solve a mystery in a swimsuit, now can you?"

On board the TARDIS, the four vacationers stood clustered around a single pamphlet with dramatically lit photographs of purple beaches.

''Looking for adventure? Exotic sights? Don't feel like sitting around drinking coffee all day? Then why not touch down on the beautiful surface of Zambarau?'' ''Zambarau, the most romantic planet in the Mutter's Spiral Galaxy! Frolic on the purple beaches of the planet, before ending the day with a swim in the lovely waters of Her oceans.''

''Sleep all day on Wednesdays! The rest of the week belongs to you and your special someone. Enjoy a romantic dinner by the soft light of Zambarau's sun. Even the most alabaster of skin couldn't sunburn here! So come on down. Zambarau welcomes you with welcome arms! Contact Mr. Bachelor's Travel Agency and book your vacation today!''

The Doctor put the pamphlet down in disgust. "I told you it was cheesy and romantic."

"You weren't original in your compliments," said Skye angrily, turning to Jack. "You were just quoting the pamphlet!"

"Let's stick to the matter at hand," replied the captain nervously. "Dead people in swimsuits."

The Doctor nodded. "Right," he said. "Am I the only one who wants to have a talk with 'Mr. Bachelor'?"

"Yes, as long as he keeps his hands to himself," replied Oma.

The Doctor looked at the address on the back of the pamphlet and began pulling levers and pressing buttons.

"He's on the surface of Zambarau. Let's surprise him at his shack."

I'm so in love, thought Mr. Bachelor, staring longingly out to sea. The purple waves of Zambarau tossed and frothed, beautiful in the soft sunlight.

"I've done everything for you," he called out to the oceans. "Brought you meal after meal, shown you that I'll always be ready to take care of you. I love you. I want to be with you forever and ever."

He paused, sighing dramatically as he leaned against a crystal-studded palm tree. "You were never talkative, dearest. But that's fine. I could listen to you all day..."

His romantic thoughts were interupted by a grinding sound through the air, coming from the side of his shack.

Vworp. Vworp. Vworp.

"Hello?" called Mr. Bachelor. "Is anyone there?" He walked to the shack, and peaked around the corner.

A tall blue box emblazoned with the words "Police Public Call Box" stood in the purple sand. The blue clashed terribly with the purple.

Annoyed, Mr. Bachelor walked over to the box and began rapping on the door with his fist. "Hello? Who is this?"

The door suddenly swung open, and a young-looking man in a black coat popped out, followed by two humans and a Tree.

"Hello!" said the first man, putting an arm around him. "I'm the Doctor. That's Skye of Earth, Jack of the Boeshane Penninsula, and Oma of Ibigi. We're unhappy customers."

"I'm sorry to hear that," replied Mr. Bachelor, pushing 'the Doctor' away. "How can I improve your experience on Zambarau? Would you like a refund?"

"Nah, no refunds," said the Doctor, tromping about on the sand and tossing a small stone into the pink ocean. "We didn't exactly pay in the first place, sorry. This is more of an interrogative visit."

The man called Jack spoke up. "We found a number of skeletal corpses on one of the larger beaches. Know anything about them?"

"It's Wednesday," replied the tourist manager. "You should have been sleeping."

"We're restless!" exclaimed the Doctor. "Out of curiosity, what does it being Wednesday have to do with swimming skeletons? Last I checked, there's no real correlation between Wednesdays and dying of natural causes. Unless you ask the Kalossians, but they've always been a bit screwy."

Mr. Bachelor wrung his hands nervously, shooting a glance out to the ocean. "I think they've stumbled on something, dearest," he mumbled.

The waves made a crashing sound as they tossed and turned by the shore.

"Yes, yes, of course," Mr. Bachelor said as if in reply. "If that is what you wish..."

He walked into his shack for a minute, pulling out a bottle. "Would any of you care for a glass of champagne?"

"Not particularly," said Skye, puzzled.

"It's on the house," replied Mr. Bachelor. He popped off the cork, and a flash of bright light knocked the four vacationers unconscious.

"Sorry about that," said Mr. Bachelor, standing over four tightly wrapped bodies. "I hope you had a good time."

"We were," grumbled Jack, slowly coming to.

"What was that," mumbled the Doctor. "Was that... that wasn't a sonic champagne bottle, was it? That would just be too cheesy."

"No, no," assured Mr. Bachelor. "Just your average stun gun disguised as a champagne bottle. I have a theme so I stick with it."

The four vacationers were tied up near a pile of huge boulders, a few feet away from the frothing, rising tide.

"Are you going to drown us?" demanded Oma, eyeing the waters carefully.

"That wouldn't be very romantic, would it'?" replied Mr. Bachelor. "I'm afraid you're going to be... how can I say it... a dinner for two."

"What do you mean?" asked Skye slowly.

"Zambarau isn't a planet," proclaimed the Doctor suddenly, understanding flashing in his eyes. "It's a species. Like most species it has two genders. Not male and female though. The genders of Zambarau are 'planet' and 'tourist manager'. The tourist manager gender finds food and feeds it to its mate." His eyes focused on the pink waves coming closer and closer to them. "The water's pink because it isn't seawater. It's digestive fluid."

"Excellent, Doctor!" exclaimed Mr. Bachelor, clapping his hands together. "Not many people have ever figured that out. The missing people have always been attributed to young lovers running away with each other. On Wednesdays we usually clean up the skeletons while everyone is asleep."

He walked to the edge of the water, staring out over its pink surface. "We are Zambarau," he sighed. "And we've been in love for so very long. We're coming up on our five billion year anniversary, in fact. Every night we feast on lovers with shorter lives. She takes them while they're swimming, usually, and I pick the remains off of their bones." He fiddled with a rose sticking out of his vest. "When we mate, the skies shake with pleasure..."

"That's disgusting," said Jack with a grimace.

"Finally, we found something that creeps even you out," replied the Doctor, giving Jack a look. He turned his attention to Mr. Bachelor. "Listen, Romeo, it's great that you've found true love here, but I can't let this go on. You've killed thousands of people."

"Billions, actually," explained Mr. Bachelor. "As I said, we've been in love for a very long time."

"You're making me feel queasier with every word you say," said the Doctor. "But I'm giving you a chance. Promise me you'll behave, change your diet, do anything but what you're doing. I'll get back to my ship, pop forward a few thousand years to make sure you're keeping your promise, and then we'll call it good."

"You are forgetting that you are tied up," pointed out Mr. Bachelor. "You are about to become the latest in a long line of candlelit dinners for two."

"Fine. I didn't want to have to do this, but you've forced my hand."

A sonic screwdriver flashed, and the ropes that binded the vacationers suddenly unraveled.

"How did you do that?" demanded the tourist manager. "I tied your hands quite tightly..."

"Shampoo," said the Doctor lightly, twirling the half-empty bottle in his hand. "Lathered up my wrists, slipped right out. Guess the stuff has more use than I thought. But that's not here or there. It's time we took care of you."

"There's four of us and one of you," said Skye, standing up with her friends.

"There are actually two of us," Mr. Bachelor said, pointing at the sky. Storms and lightning were brewing. "My beloved is rather hungry at the moment, and she's not taking kindly to your threats, Doctor."

The Doctor looked up at the stormy sky. "Is that supposed to be intimidating?"

"No, it's supposed to be distracting," said Mr. Bachelor flatly. From behind them, one of the pink waves suddenly lashed out and soaked the four of them.

Skye screamed, backing into a rock as the water burned her skin. The water was a lot less pleasant when it was actively trying to melt her flesh off her bones.

The Doctor was hopping around, trying to shield himself with his coat. "I warned you!" he yelled angrily.

Mr. Bachelor gave him a blank stare. "You keep saying that," he said bluntly, "but you really haven't given me any indication I should fear you."

Now the Doctor was not only hopping and pointing his sonic screwdriver inside of the bottle of shampoo.

He was now hopping about and lathering all his exposed skin with the stuff. Finally he finished, grinning triumphantly, and tossed the bottle to Skye.

"Lather up," he proclaimed with all the triumph of a Roman Emperor. Skye frowned but did as he said. Jack and Oma waited rather impatiently beside her, trying to shake the burning seawater off of themselves.

"I don't follow," said Mr. Bachelor with a frown. "You aren't disolving like you should. You should be puddles of easily digested slush now."

"Shampoo!" exclaimed the Doctor. "Wonderful stuff. It's got Oleth-3, Propylene Glycol, Cinnamidopropyltrimonium Chloride, more Glycol Stearate than you could shake a stick at. And it smells like flowers."

"That has absolutely nothing to do with not being eaten."

"Absolutely correct," said the Doctor mischieviously. "Fortunately, there are a few sonic frequencies that turn Glycol Stearate into a very effective acid repellent."

"That is the worst chemistry I have ever heard," said Oma cynically, smearing more acid-repelling shampoo around her eyebrows.

"It's the best chemistry you've ever heard," retorted the Doctor. "You just don't understand it."

Mr. Bachelor shook his head. "Setting aside the fact that you're resisting digestion with shampoo--which I still refuse to accept, by the way--you haven't actually won. You're still trapped here, and we're still going to eat you."

There was a sudden rumbling from all around them. The skies grew darker, and the waves grew more tumultous.

"This is the part where you say sorry," the Doctor said pointedly.

"I'll do no such thing."

"Please," the Doctor pleaded. "This is about to get really messy otherwise."

"I have nothing to apologize for," Mr. Bachelor snapped. "I've eaten billions of young lovebirds and I liked them. In my exceptionally long life I am going to eat even more. I will depopulate this galaxy before I stop eating them, and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Fine, your loss," the Doctor sighed. "Loss of life, that is. Skye, Oma, Jack, close your eyes. You don't want to get water in them.

And the tsunami hit.

Skye got up with a groan. The sun was blazing on her head again, and she was laying on the purple sand again.

The Doctor was already up, staring out onto the pink ocean. As the others forced themselves to stand, ringing out their clothes, Skye walked to his side.

And noticed with a start that the water wasn't pink anymore. It was a dull grey, and the waves no longer tossed and churned.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

"Indigestion," the Doctor replied with a sigh. "I made the shampoo into a potent acid repellent. Can you imagine what would happen if you swallowed something that nullified the effect of your stomach acid?"

"Indigestion," Skye agreed. "Is that what that tsunami was?"

"Right. It washed us further up shore. We were protected from the acid, Mr. Bachelor... wasn't."

For the first time Skye noticed a new skeleton lying on the beach. A skeleton that looked slightly inhuman, wearing Mr. Bachelor's suit.

"He got digested," said Skye, feeling slightly sick.

"I warned him it'd get messy," the Doctor replied grimly.

"And the water..."

"Turned grey because Zambarau is dead. Without her mate to bring her food, she must have realized that she'd die a slow death of starvation." He sighed. "And maybe, I hope, she was feeling just a little repentant. She didn't have to eat people. There were probably loads of native animals on Zambarau for her to eat. The fact that we don't see any means she must have gotten greedy. Ate too many and had to resort to luring tourists to her surface."

The Doctor seemed to be lost in thought for a minute before turning and pacing up toward the parked TARDIS. "Well come along, you lot. Adventures to have, galaxies to see."

The four travellers boarded the TARDIS. Oma and Jack began chatting at one side.

Skye walked up to the Doctor and smiled.

"You know where we need to go next," she said teasingly.

"Absolutely," the Doctor replied. "The Isis Galaxy! Billions of golden stars, shining amongst rainbow nebulas! Best milkshakes this side of the universe, though they're not really made of milk. And I've heard the Empire of the Tainted Blood has gotten a bit oppressive lately. We should stop by and topple them before things get too Nazi."

"You used all of our shampoo," Skye said accusingly.

"To stop us from being digested."

"You used it nonetheless," she replied airily. "We need more."

The Doctor sighed. "All right everyone," he proclaimed to the console room. "The Empire of the Tainted Blood can reign a little longer. We've apparently got shampoo to buy, you don't want to miss that..."

The TARDIS faded from the surface of dead Zambarau, hurtling off through time and space.