Uploaded to the site:  23/12/01



The Romana Banana Drama.

by Clive May (clive@cj4386.demon.co.uk)

A Fourth Doctor piece of silliness, brought to the news group by

The Flying Dinosaur Productions in association with Fyffes.

The copy right of all things pertaining to the concept and characters of Dr
Who is the property of the BBC.  This story is a work of fan fiction; it has
been written simply for the pleasure it gave me in writing it; and no money
has or will change hands with respect to the story.


"The universe is doomed!" gloated Sir Rochester Bullwhip.  "Nothing can
prevent my fiendish Banana of Doom from destroying it utterly!" He laughed
expansively, thereby committing a technical infringement of the Evil Villains
Behaviour Code, section 9 (gloating), sub-section a (requirement for evil
cackling).  Fresh from his success as a sadistic plantation owner in a racy
bodice-ripper set on Jamaica in the eighteenth century, Sir Rochester didn't
consider that evil cackling was "quite the thing".

"You fool, Doctor," he crowed, launching in on the obligatory taunting of the
hero with his patheticness.  "Your idiotic blundering..."

Zaaaapppp!!

"??....Arrgghh!!!!" thud.

K9, demonstrating a hitherto unsuspected penchant for literary criticism, had
lasered the billain in an attempt to prevent gratuitous propagation of
cliche.

"Well, that's done for old Sir Rochester, I should think," commented the
Doctor.  "But what are we going to do with the Banana of Doom?  It's still
deadly." He glared at the curved yellow fruit, clutched in his hand.

"Get rid of it?" suggested Romana, quite unruffled.

"How?" the Doctor demanded urgently.

"Oh?  I don't know?" Romana said airily, a mischievous gleam in her eye.
"You might try throwing it away?"

"Right!" exclaimed the Doctor, hurling the fiendish fruit as hard as he
could.  To his dismay, the frightful fruit boomeranged, and came right back
to his hand.  In growing panic, he chucked it again, and again, and again,
with a distressingly similar result.  He began to panic, casting about
frantically for a more effective solution.

"Oh.  Give it here," snapped Romana pettishly, snatching the offensive fruit
from the Doctor.  "Just because the banana will not go, that's no reason to
go bananas!"

"And you've got a better plan, I suppose?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Romana said smugly.  "Since you scoffed all the
toast at breakfast, I'm going to eat it."

"What?  No!  Don't do that!..." cried the Doctor, grabbing for the banana;
but he was too late.

Munch!

The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut, and clapped hands over his ears - not that
he expected that to help when the universe went BOOM; but you never knew your
luck?  Exactly what the end of everything should sound like, though, the
Doctor was not too certain; but one thing he was sure of - it ought not to
sound like...

"Scrumptious!"

He opened one eye, to see Romana gripping the empty banana skin between
forefinger and thumb, and searching for a suitable receptical in which to
dispose of it.  He peered all around suspiciously, not quite trusting the
permanence of what he saw.

"Eh?  Why hasn't?...."

".....The universe exploded?" Romana finished for him.  "Really, Doctor," she
huffed; "our people are Lords of Time, after all.  Naturally, you'd expect
them to foresee such a deadly peril as the Banana of Doom crisis?  and take
steps."

"Steps?"

"Yes.  When I was ...ah...'conceived'....  certain 'interesting' genetic
material was incorporated in my make up, specifically to deal with this
crisis. My salivar excretes the antidote to the Banana of Doom."

Romana paused a moment, for dramatic effect, before adding in a portentous
tone.  "You see, Doctor, this moment has been prepared for."

Apart from an inexplicable shudder of foreboding, that went right through
him, the egregious portentousness flew right past the Doctor, without so much
as a by-your-leave.

The end