THE REAL ADVENTURES OF DR. WHO
THE REAL ADVENTURES OF DR. WHO
Episode 1: FEMBOTS UPON YE
The Police Box fell out of the sky somewhere in the desert. It was a magnificent blue monolith amidst a backdrop of blinding sun and white sand. There’s also like cactuses and tumbleweeds and shit. I can’t be responsible for everything use your fuckin’ imagination.
The door of the Police Box opens and the first person to step out is Dr. Who. He's an extremely British looking guy with a John Oliver haircut and a nice brown suit. He’s got a little device in his hand with a green glowy bit.
Behind him is a red headed woman, who looks concerned about where they landed. She’s got a traditionally attractive body and a green dress. The high heels she chose are a shit match for the sandy desert they landed in.
Finally, K9 emerges. She is a tall, chrome, buxom fembot body with dials for nipples and a control panel on her taut mechanical belly. And she has a robot dog head. She’s a sexy robot dog. And she’s got that stupid little tail over her shapely ass.
“Why did we land out in the desert?” The woman asks.
Dr. Who grins because he loves to explain stuff. “Because when we went on this adventure five years ago, we landed in town and were immediately shot to death by scared locals.”
“Okay, but like. We’re gonna have to come back out here to get our ride later. It’s kind of inconvenient.”
“Inconvenience is the price one pays for incredible time adventures.” Dr. Who tips his bowler hat and starts marching along with extreme joviality. K9 has wheels on her feet so she just coasts forward, wrists tilted up.
“Okay but you could have said we were doing a desert thing! I wore high heels.”
“I did tell you, six months from now.”
“Oh right, I remember that.” The woman blushes at her mistake.
…
ARIZONA, 1866
DIRTVILLE
Dirtville used to be the only place in 50 miles to get a drink of water out here, and that was its only claim to fame. Small stores with bare pickings supplied travelers. Things were drying up fast.
Until they struck gold.
They dug a huge hole in the ground about it. Suddenly the place exploded. They got an assay office, which attracted criminals, which attracted a sheriff, which attracted a need to keep the sheriff drunk, which meant people needed places to live and food to eat and now it’s a huge deal and only growing by the day.
And here comes Dr. Fucking Who with a big grin on his face, ready to ruin it all.
“Welcome to Dirtville, USA! Circa 1866.” Dr. Who spread his arms wide at the edge of town, embracing the time adventure.
“DIRT DETECTED” said K9 in a really uncomfortably sexy voice.
The redhead steps forward. “You know, you mentioned that we got shot and killed the last time we were here-”
“First time we were here,” corrects Dr. Who.
“Right. I’m just kinda nervous that we’re in 1866 and your girlfriend is a robot that looks like a robot.”
“Yeah! Good catch.” Dr. Who aims his magic wand at K9. ZAP! K9 has a cowboy hat.
“ISSUE RESOLVED” announces K9. Again: very husky, tinny robot voice.
The three of them walked/trundled down the dusty main road. The town is bustling: there’s lots of those oldey timey buildings around with the swinging doors and people who look like cowboys but ain’t rustling cattle so cowboys they ain’t.
“Those ain’t cowboys are all probably ain’t ain’t miners. Cause of all the gold they ain’t ain’t mining.”
“Fair enough, Dr. Who. But why have you brought us here? Is it the gold?” The woman has a deep lust for treasure.
“It’s not gold.” Dr. Who says. “It’s TIME GOLD. The miners just think it’s normal gold.”
“What does TIME GOLD do?”
“DEFINING TIME GOLD.” K9 slides her hands sensually down her sides and begins to press buttons on her middle.
“TIME GOLD: UNSTABLE TIME-AFFECTING MATERIAL USED TO POWER TIME DEVICES. CAN ALSO BE USED FOR *EVIL*.”
“I see! That sounds important. So what do we do first?”
Dr. Who begins walking towards the local bar. He’s swinging his arms and kicking his legs like he wants the whole world to look at him. “We’re going to ask the locals where the mine is and also get a drink so we don’t die from exposure.”
“I do admit I am dying from exposure a little,” said the woman, who due to her red headed lineage would be waking up with a crispy sunburn tomorrow.
..,
The name of the bar they enter is “The Place You’re Lookin’ Fer”. They push through the swingy wild west doors and inside is a bustling saloon scene. Picture it: drunks, loud piano music being banged out by some mediocre player, girls in corsets on stage dancing to the tune.
Dr. Who disintegrates some rando with his omnitool, like a green beam that goes PSCHEWEWW and takes his place at the bar. The woman is appalled.
“Dr. Who, you killed someone!”
“It’s fine, he would have grown up to be Hitler 2.”
“But Hitler 1 doesn’t even happen until the 1940s.”
“That’s how bad it’d have been.”
Dr. Who brushes the ash off of the seat and slides his twinky little butt into it. “Have you got a Pimm’s?”
The bartender raises an eyebrow at the request, but an absolutely gorgeous woman slides up next to him. She has an elegant red dress that has an absurdly tight corset, and her bust is straining against the low cut of the fabric. Her blonde hair is all done up in curls and volume.
“One Pimm’s for the good man.” She purrs out and slides a bottle over to Dr. Who.
For Dr. Who, Pimm’s is like a health pickup so he upends the bottle into his throat. “Cheers, miss…?”
“Ima. Ima Robot.” She offers a delicate hand to him.
“I’m really loving how at ease I am with that name.” Dr. Who takes her hand and kisses it.
Unbeknownst to Dr. Who, and probably our readers, Ima Robot is secretly a robot. She’s an evil robot, too. Her HUD is red and as she scans Dr. Who she’s sizing him up and reading his power level.
It’s like 10, Dr. Who’s immense power is not rooted in an understanding of martial arts.
[BRITISH OUTFIT DETECTED] [JOHN OLIVER ADJACENT ENERGY] [DOWNED A BOTTLE OF PIMM’S IN 12 SECONDS]
[BRITISH TIME TRAVELLER CONFIRMED]
Internally, she’s got a list of options on her HUD to choose from.
[SEDUCE HIM] [BETRAY AND TRAP DR. WHO] [TALK ABOUT YOUR TITS] ←—--
Ima purrs out and leans forward to accentuate her decolletage. “Goodness it’s so hot today. I wish someone would help me get this dress off.”
Dr. Who sighs. “I’m taken, sadly.”
His woman sidekick looks hopeful but Dr. Who just shoots her a look. Definitely not happening, I guess.
Ima’s eyes flicker with light. Her smile tightens and her left eyelid flutters. She’s like, so hot and perfect. How could someone turn her down? It does not compute.
“Taken? W-why yes. You are taken. Taken to the undertaker!”
Dr. Who scrunches his brows in confusion.
“Because you’ll be dead!” Ima turns her chest towards Dr. Who, and a pair of black barrels stick out of her boobs where her nipples would be.
Dr. Who understands now.
“Okay, but. Bad news! I’m immortal. I cannot be killed.” Dr. Who grins.
“So it’s okay if I shoot you?”
“I didn’t say that--”
BLAM BLAM BLAM!
Dr. Who looks down at himself. His suit is ruined. He’s got three bullet holes in his favorite organs. He collapses to the ground as the redheaded woman screams.
Suddenly, K9 surges forward and wraps her delicate metal hand around Ima Robot’s neck.
“KEEP YOUR WHORE BULLETS OUT OF MY MAN”
Effortlessly, K9 lifts Ima and drags her across the bar. Ima gasps as several drinks get spilled across her face and chest. She’s raked down the whole length of the bar, and K9 keeps wheeling forward at full speed, until she brings Ima against the back wall and SLAMS her into it.
Ima is staring, shocked. Her optics are flickering. Wires are sticking out of her double D cleavage, and smoke is rising from her ears. Her HUD is reporting liquid damage in her circuits, and that her left arm has been dislocated. Sure enough, that arm sparks once and detaches from her body.
And then K9 starts to use her immense power to SLAM, SLAM, SLAM Ima against the wall. Each time she does, Ima springs a coil, or loses a screw. She’s slowly coming apart as seams on her body loosen. A panel on her chest pops open and reveals sparking circuitry. Her other arm comes off. Then a leg. She falls apart like a mannequin, and her head lands on her tits, looking shocked as the lights in her eyes fizzle out.
“BITCH.” says K9.
And so. Dr. Who lays on his back, blood pooling around him. His sidekick is crying mournful tears.
Is Dr. Who really dead? Who built the subversive fembot that attacked him? Will his sidekick be able to carry on alone and find the TIME GOLD before someone exploits its time powers for time evil?