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Prank War

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That self-righteous twat had taken it a step too far. The Master had been nice, or at least nice for his standards, and then the Doctor had thought he could just get away with meddling with the piece of art that was his playlist.

Whenever the Doctor was being a bit too... pious in his moral beliefs, the Master liked to retreat to one of the Doctor’s pets’ rooms, wreak some havoc, and listen to one of the only good things from Earth: their music. That opportunity for an escape had been one of his conditions when accepting to join the Doctor in his TARDIS, and he was furious that the Doctor had interfered.

At first, the Master had been confused when the smooth transition from Attention To Me by The Nolans to She’s My Man by Scissor Sisters had been abrupted by a song he had never heard before, but when he looked at his phone and saw that, yes, its name was ‘Trust Me I’m A Doctor,’ it didn’t take an evil genius to figure out who was responsible.

The Doctor had probably anticipated immediate retaliation, based on his not-at-all-suspicious questions that following dinner. He should know better by now.

The Master had played his part, acting entirely oblivious. He even ended the dessert with giving the Doctor a dessert of his own, a rare occasion even now.

No, revenge was better served cold.



The Master watched with masked glee as the Doctor hurried around the consol room looking for his coat, somehow not seeing it lying right there on the consols. This incarnation really was an idiot savant. After a while of this nonsense, the Master coughed and tilted his head in its direction.

“Ah. Thanks,” the Doctor said and put it on.

“Where were you going again?” the Master said, trying to sound disinterested and focus on his phone.

“Just picking up some stuff. We’re out of milk.”

No they weren’t. ‘

“And the TARDIS is completely useless for filling up her own fridge, got it,” the Master said.

“No, but I want this special Earth milk. And a new DVD of Life On Mars, since someone broke the last one.”

“The bloke creeped me out.” Even now, the Master shivered from the memory. “Well, then. Hope you don’t run into some alien that’ll eat you and spit out an uglier you.”

The Doctor gave him a ridiculously goofy smile. “Glad to know you care. Bye, Master!”

They kissed goodbye and the Doctor ran out, leaving the Master smirking menacingly.

Even without knowing where the Doctor was really going, the Master would have known he had lied. He was nervous about something, and that something was probably that the Master would follow him, see Martha, and start a conflict that would result in only one of them walking out alive. The lack of confidence in his manners was comforting.

Of course, little did the Doctor know that Martha would never show up.

It had only required a small portion of sleeping powder sprinkled into his tea to knock the Doctor out for the night. That’s what happens when you run around day after day not taking care of yourself.

While he had been sleeping, the Master had then taken the TARDIS to Martha’s room.

The girl had been showering but must have heard his arrival, since she appeared in the doorway just as the Master was picking up her phone. What resulted had been a series of threats, screams, and irreversible destruction of her room, all of which the Master was fairly sure they both were responsible for.

In the end, the Master sent the TARDIS into the vortex, Martha’s phone in hand, as he heard her yelling and knocking fade away. She truly was impressive, for a human.

Now, the Master checked the time. It had been ten minutes since the Doctor went out. That would probably be a good time to get going.

He exited the TARDIS, and the plan could have collapsed right at that very moment were it not for the Doctor’s oblivion of his surroundings.

The TARDIS had been parked right outside the café where the meeting was planned to happen, and the Master hurried out of sight before the Doctor, clearly visible through the window, would notice him. Now he just had to wait.

The Doctor was early, for once, the meeting set to take place five minutes later.

Using Martha’s phone, the Master had asked the Doctor to meet up and chat with a specific place, date, and time attached. This had been a bit of a wild shot, since the Doctor normally hated these kinds of small-talk get-togethers, so he must have been really looking forward to reunite with her. What a shame.

Minutes pass, and Martha was now officially late. The Master stole a few glimpses through the window, careful not to be seen.

The Doctor got his phone out and started texting.

Before it even pinged, the Master had the phone in hand and was ready to read.

Hello, Martha. I’m sitting at the café. Do you want me to order you anything? -The Doctor

The Master stifled a giggle. He really had to teach the Doctor to text better.

Another text: I haven’t heard from you yet. Did I have the day right? -The Doctor

The Master snorted and was just about to lean over to take another peek when a human on the street started talking to him.

“Hey, you look like that mad PM! Are you an impersonator or-”

The man was sadly cut off by his own screams as he shrank to his death by unforeseen circumstances. A woman with a baby stroller and wide eyes stared as the Master as he hid his TCE. He stuck out his tongue at her and she hurried away.

Lousy humans, interrupting his entertainment. Speaking of which, he had in the meantime received four new messages from the Doctor.

Where are you at, Martha? -The Doctor

Are you on your way? -The Doctor

Did I get the right address? -The Doctor

My food’s almost ready. I’m gonna eat here. So just come whenever, I got you a cookie. -The Doctor

The Master laughed. He looked through the window and, sure enough, the waitress came by with two cups of tea, fries, and a cookie .

At that, the phone finally rang. The Master picked it up at the third ring, not wanting to seem desperate.

“Hello?” the Master said.

A pause.

“I think I have the wrong number. Sorry,” the Doctor says and hangs up.

The Master laughed and, not caring whether it would expose him at this point, stood up right in front the window and started glaring the Doctor down. Still, the man only looked at this phone.

And called again.

“Hello?” the Master said yet again.

“Hi, um, is Martha there? Or did she get a new number or… do you happen to know who she is?”

“No, Martha isn’t here. But your Master is.”


The Master laughed. “Hey, do you have my cookie?”


“Where’s my cookie?”

“What? Who is this?”

“Look outside!” the Master said, willing himself to look as maniacally evil as possible.

The Doctor looked at him and hurried outside. “What did you do to her?”

“Just stole her phone. Where’s my cookie?”

“Wait, you set me up?” the Doctor clearly tried to hide it, but the Master could see he was amused.

“Yes. That’ll teach you messing with my phone.”

They both laughed at that.

“I knew you’d noticed!” the Doctor said. “Though I did wonder why you ignored it.”

“I was busy planning my evil vengeance.”

“Well, that was a good one. I’ll get you back, though.”

And that he did.