“So…so does that mean you’re all versions of the same person?” asked Mickey.
“Not in the sense that you’re thinking of, Mickey,” replied the Fourth Doctor as he checked the TARDIS. “We’re not just versions of the same Time Lord. We ARE the same Time Lord.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” complained Amy. “You all have a terrible habit of not knowing when to dumb things down!”
“Look, Mr. Mouse, it’s like this,” said Lurra Rus, “when a Time Lord is about to die, either by old age or fatal damage, they go through a process called regeneration. They rewrite themselves on the genetic level to become a totally new person. The regenerating Time Lord could start out having a pale skin tone and be whimsical, then they’d end up in a body that could have an increased melanin count, or be short, or tall, and their new personality could be that of a curmudgeon, or a cynic, or a really wild person.”
“Oh, so it’s not multiverse stuff,” said Mickey, “those three are the same person at different points in their life.”
“Yes! That’s it!” cheered the present Doctor.
“And everyone that believes in reincarnation just punched the air,” said Bugs. “So how did your past lives get here, Doc?”
“Well, my future self DID mention something about a chronal surge,” remarked the Fourth Doctor.
“Oh? And who would develop the technology to do so?” asked the Second Doctor.
“Perhaps if I could explain!” called the present Doctor.
“Yes, perhaps some explanations are in order,” agreed Mickey. By now, everyone was giving the present Doctor their full attention.
“Well, Doctors, you remember that little legend about the Grouping?” asked the present Doctor. “Where chronal surges happen all across time and space and cause chaos by picking people up and plopping them into different time zones?”
“Yes, that’s one of the things Borusa taught us,” replied the Fourth Doctor.
“It’s not a legend, it really happened,” said the present Doctor. “And it’s happening again right now.”
“Oh…oh I see,” said the Second Doctor. “Well, as I said, just as well we turned up, eh?”
“What do you mean?” asked the present Doctor.
“Well, isn’t it obvious?” quizzed the Fourth Doctor. “Your effectiveness is now tripled!”
“Divided by three, you mean,” snarked the present Doctor.
“Now, now, young lady,” chided the Second Doctor. “There’s no need to be ungracious. Now, let’s pop into the TARDIS and examine our little problem, shall we? You don’t mind, do you?”
“Oh, be my guest,” replied the present Doctor.
“Thank you,” bid the Second Doctor as he opened the TARDIS. He then looked inside. “Oh my word!” he yelped. The Fourth Doctor looked inside.
“What?!” he gasped.
“Beautiful, hm?” asked the present Doctor as she joined her fellows. “Amy, Lurra, mind waiting outside for a sec?”
“Um, sure,” replied Amy. The TARDIS doors then shut.
“…Oh. …Ooooohhh, I see what’s going on,” realized Mickey.
“What do you mean, Doc?” asked Bugs.
“Does the phrase ‘You are your own worst critic’ mean anything?” asked Mickey. Amy, Lurra Rus, and Bugs realized where Mickey was coming from.
“How vicious do you think the squabbling will be?” asked Amy to no one in particular.
Inside the TARDIS, the Doctor’s previous incarnations were looking around the console room. “I see you’ve redecorated,” said the Second Doctor. “I don’t like it.”
“I was a fan of the wood-paneling,” remarked the Fourth Doctor.
“The wood paneling?” asked the Second Doctor. “You mean our writing desk?! You’ve used that as the primary console room at one point?!”
“I still am,” replied the Fourth Doctor.
“What’s wrong with the red and gold?” asked the present Doctor. She then saw her second incarnation at one of the panels! “Please, be careful! I-!” The console panel beeped, then powered down.
“I see you’ve been fiddling with the console, haven’t you?!” accused the Second Doctor. By now, the present Doctor was getting annoyed.
“It was perfectly all right until YOU touched it!” she hissed as she shoved the Second Doctor aside and worked to reset the panel. “Now, if you’d just leave things to me-!”
“My dear girl, if we left things to you, we’d be in a fine pickle now, wouldn’t we?”
“Now look, you destabilized the chronal offset-!”
“I most certainly did not!”
“Why did you need the chronal offset stabilized anyways?” asked the Fourth as he flicked a switch.
“That’s the most surefire way of tracking a chronal surge!” replied the present Doctor as she flicked the switch back. “And it also helps me get ahead of the surge so I can deal with the problem before it becomes too big!”
“It seemed to put you in a place where it affected you!” argued the Second Doctor.
“Rather painfully, I would presume,” guessed the Fourth Doctor. As the three Doctors squabbled, they didn’t realize that the communications panel was blinking. It was only when a voice cut through from the scanner that the bickering stopped.
“Hello! Grandfather! Come in!” came a voice. The three Doctors stopped.
“Susan?!” yelped the present Doctor as she and her previous incarnations turned to see Susan Foreman, Lord President of Gallifrey and the Doctor’s Granddaughter, on the screen.
“…Stognav told me you had regenerated, Grandfather,” said Susan, “but I didn’t realize you had turned into a supermodel.”
“OI!” protested the present Doctor.
“The little fellow, I recognize from the Death Zone,” continued Susan. The Second Doctor frowned at the reference to his height. “So which incarnation is the one with the scarf?”
“Oh, he’s the one between the fancy pants and the cricket player,” replied the present Doctor.
“Ah, so he’s the one that was trapped in the time eddy. Well, have you said anything to them?”
“Well, Susan,” replied the Second Doctor, “our arrival WAS because of a chronal surge.”
“So the Grouping affected you twice over,” remarked Susan. “Now, have you done anything?”
“Well, we’ve assessed the situation,” replied the present Doctor. Susan sighed.
“I was afraid you’d say that,” she muttered.
“Well, it’s not easy!” protested the present Doctor.
“Not as if we can accurately figure out where each of us came from in time!” the Second Doctor agreed.
“Surely you three can think of something,” said Susan. “…After you get your past selves back to their native time zones, Grandfather, I DO need to tell you and Amy something.” The present Doctor arched an eyebrow, looking quite concerned.
“…Well, in the meantime,” said the Fourth Doctor, “perhaps we should figure out the exact points in time we came from, eh Doctor?”
“Oh, I quite agree, Doctor,” replied the Second Doctor.
“I think I have an idea,” said the present Doctor. “Susan, I’ll call you back when this particular Grouping event is settled.”
“Very well, Grandfather,” replied Susan. She then ended the call.
“Right, I think we’d best have a little chat,” said the present Doctor. “Telepathically. The situation is rather involved.”
“Oh, very well,” sighed the Second Doctor. He and his future incarnations then shut their eyes. “Contact.”
“Contact,” said the Fourth Doctor.
“Contact,” finished the present Doctor. The three Doctors then had their telepathic conference. After a bit, the Doctors opened their eyes.
“Well, that seems simple,” said the Second Doctor. “Though, I must admit, you two being so dependent on your sonic screwdrivers-.”
“Save it!” hissed the present Doctor. “We already agreed anyways.”
“She’s quite right,” agreed the Fourth Doctor.
“So, with all the screwdrivers synced to mine-!” said all three Doctors. …They then fixed one another with a sour look. The present Doctor then fished a modern-day five-pence coin out of her pocket. Her previous incarnations fished out the same kind of coin, but this was before the current decimal system.
“Call,” directed the present Doctor as all three flipped their coins. They then checked where the coins landed.
“Heads,” said the Second Doctor.
“Heads,” called the Fourth Doctor.
“Tails, I win,” said the present Doctor as she checked a little too quickly. Her previous incarnations didn’t buy it, but didn’t argue.
“…All right,” sighed the Fourth Doctor. “Screwdrivers ready.” The three of them fished out their sonic screwdrivers and the Second and Fourth Doctors pointed their screwdrivers at the present Doctor’s.
“Begin sync-up…NOW!” called the present Doctor. The three activated their screwdrivers and the console room was filled with combined noise for a good five seconds. The Doctors then switched their screwdrivers off and the present Doctor checked hers. “…Calculations are beginning,” she said. “We’ve got-.”
“DOCTOR!” yelped Amy’s voice from outside the TARDIS.
“Uh oh!” gulped the present Doctor.
“I see that hasn’t changed,” remarked the Fourth Doctor.
“Don’t just stand there! Come on!” urged the Second Doctor as he made a dash for the door.
The three Doctors left the TARDIS and the present Doctor locked the time machine. “Amy, what’s going-?!” asked the present Doctor before she saw everyone being held up by a little cowboy with two revolvers and a long, orange moustache. His partner was a giant, obese cat with no tail and overalls held by one strap. “…A stick-up, is it?” asked the present Doctor.
“Sam and I heard through the grapevine,” chuckled the fat cat, “that the box over there is a time machine! Well, given how we always lost to Mickey and Bugs, WE’RE gonna be using it to fix our mistakes!”
“So youse are gonna give up the box,” said the cowboy, “or Imma gonna blow your friends here to smithereenies!”
