Author: Ronion
Published: 2019/09/11

AN: Oh yes. It's back. Here's the start of the Chronicles, for your many and doubtless latexy sins.

Disclaimer goes here, dat claimer goes somewhere else: I do not own any of the intellectual property represented herein. Since last I updated this fic, I have come to own actual property instead. A pee-soaked cardboard box in a back alley in Minsk counts, right?

Content Warning: This fic is rated Mature, or 18 in civilised countries. If you're younger than that, don't read it. There's plenty more out there for you. Christ knows there's a paucity of stuff on this hellsite that could ever be called Mature with a straight face...


Ve vould like to be tellink you zat it vas beink ein good mornink for zer famous und notorious Doktor Trollenfisch; zer kind of morning zat vould lead, after zer rain had gone, into beink ein bright, bright, bright, sunshiney day. Alas, zat ist not beink somezink zat zer Doktor und his Interlockenpolyculen vas beink in ein position to ascertain. Zis vas beink, in point of fact, just about zer only remainink position of vhich zey had no knowledge. It had been ein lonk time in zer Responsezentrum.

Zis vas of no great concern, however, to zer indefatigable spirit und eqwally indefatigable stamina of zer good Doktor und zer ever-expandink circle of boingtacular-chested HQties zat formed his Interlockenpolyculen. At present, zeir ranks vere comprised of zer Aviator, Luxury, Ix, Charlotte, und Nurse Robinson, und zey vere marked as beink such by zer pink leatherette collars zey all wore zat vere decorated vizz zer Doktor's own pointy qwills. Zer collars vere, generally speakink, all zat zey could be relied upon to be wearink at any given moment (vizz zer possible exception of zer shiny latex catsuits vizz conveniently placed holes).

Zer group vas loungink artfully in zer communal paddling pool full of orange jelly, as vas zeir collective wont for reasons zey vere not qwite understandink until zey read zer script for zis garbage, vhen zere vas ein loud crash outside zer door! Zis loud crashink und smashink roused Doktor Trollenfisch from his slumber, und he flopped over zer prone, gooey, latex-clad bodies of his inexplicably large number of partners in intercourse and took a look outside into zer hallvay.

"Liebe Arceus!" Zer Doktor cried, startling und vaking zer rest of zer Interlockenpolyculen. "Vhat is happenink out here? It ist lookink like ein varzone, only vizz less blood und more splishy-sploshy gelatinous foodstuffs!" He thought for ein moment. "Actually, about zer same amount of splishy-sploshy gelatinous foodstuffs. It's been ein bit of an odd veek."

"Veek?" said zer person outside holding ein complicated-looking rifle of zome design or other. "Vhat are you talking about? Zis RC has been under permanent lockdown for two years! Ve haven't been able to get in! Nobody has! How are none of you not dead from starvation or exhaustion or jiggular asphyxiation? Und vhy am I speakink in zis preposterous accent?"

"Ja, er, I find it best not to be qwestionink zat last bit, it is only causink zer upset und strife. Anyvay," zer Doktor continued at speed, "vhat ist beink your name, meine kleine Futuristichbüchsemädchen?"

Zer woman - und vhat a vomanly voman she vas beink! - stood to rigid attention in vays zat caused Doktor Trollenfisch's eye to be drawn vizz eqwal military precision to her tonking great turbo-twinset. "I am beink Sqwadron Leader Agamemnon Vymbourne of zer Protectors of zer Pneumatic Continuum! Ve fight for zer right of all sentient beings in zer Vord Vorlds to life, liberty, und zer pursuit of ein set of truly vast funbags to crowbar into ein qwite insufficient amount of latex corsetry. Or somezink like zat anyvay."

"Agamemnon?" asked Luxury, zer first to get to her feet (Ix und Charlotte might vell have beaten her to it, but zey slipped on a soapy item of unlikely insertability und landed on each other). "I am not vishink to be rude or closed-minded, but zat ist ein male name, ja?"

"Ja, vell, I prefer Aggie, but zer other girls here are beink such sticklers for formality. Plus it's just how zis place vorks. Get hit on zer head, vake up here, check mirror, find out you are beink ein girl vizz zer most fulsome und sumptuous enormobazoongas. All part of zer service, ja?" Aggie favoured Luxury vizz ein vink zat promised zer kind of in-depth bedroom activity zat vas still beink illegal in Albania despite zer ongoink appeals vizz zer nation's Supreme Conjugal Veirdness Court.

"So, vait ein minute," piped up Jenni from zer paddling pool, "zis place appeared spontaneously after ein serious head injury?"

"Alvays vizz zer tone of surprise," mumbled Doktor Trollenfisch. "But alas," he continued, directink his attention to Aggie, "I must be bearink zer bad news, meine kleine Griechenheldenmädchen. Ve are beink members of zer Protectors of zer Plot Continuum, und ve are not beink natives of zis noble universe. Indeed, I am not knowink how zis came to pass at all!"

"Ah," said ein very sheepish-soundink Aviator. "I am thinkink zat zis might be beink eeeeever zo slightly mein fault." She stood up, a motion vhich meant her delectable melon harvest drew Aggie's gaze for several minutes. "Mein Doktor, are you rememberink vhen ve vere doink zer Vibblyvobblycanoodlywoodlymachen? Vizz zer trombone full of helium und zer techniques zat reqwire zer comprehensive knowledge of Renaissance architecture?"

"Ah, meine kleine FlugzeugundTARDISmädchen, like it vas only yesterday! Oh, zose halcyon days of long ago!"

"Ja, vell, it vaz only yesterday. I am thinkink anyvay. It vas only about nine hours ago. Mein vorkink hypothesis ist beink as follows: one of zer greasy frogs got stuck in zer helmic regulator of mein TARDIS. Again."

"Ah!" Aggie cried, to zer amazement of zer Interlockenpolyculen. "Zer presence of zer oleaginous amphibian vill be causink zer multiversal bleedthrough! Mein former partner und I vere havink ein broadly similar problem vizz her TARDIS. Zat must be vhat vas bringink you all here! I can fix zat!"

"Vell zhen, jawohl!" said zer Doktor. "Please be comink into zer Responsezentrum und fixink zer TARDIS, meine kleine Griechenheldenmädchen! Glory und sqweaky rubber und rubber-adjacent substances avaits!"

Aggie trotted inside und made for zer TARDIS, chest heavink und latex Bristols-harness creakink vizz zer superhuman effort of containink her chesticular magnificence. However, zer Aviator stopped Aggie from enterink vizz ein outstretched hand, vhich managed to land gracefully atop Aggie's thundermelons qwite by coincidence.

"Now just you be vaitink ein minute, Aggie! Zis ist ein TARDIS! Mein TARDIS! She ist ein living und feelink thing, to zer point vhere she might end up joinink in zis ridiculousness at some point if zer Doktor ist wishink reeeeeeally hard. If you und I are goink to be performink zer repairs, you must be doink everythink I say."

"Of course, mein Time Lady."

"No matter how strange it might initially be seemink."

"Of course, mein Time Lady."

"Or how many improbably-lodged Rice Krispie cakes it might entail."

"Of course, mein Time Lady."

"Echt klasse! I've alvays vanted to do one of zose," zer Aviator replied. "Everyone, please be gettink in zer TARDIS! Let's get down to business!"

Und get down to business zey did! Indeed, zer Hundefeatendowntobusinessgetten vas zeir first point of call upon ein journey of discovery und peculiar multiversal transit methods! Next vas zer Wombenbroomencobwebchecken, for vhat else could be zer follow-up to such ein strenuous and ketchup-intensive activity? But zey saved zeir energy und skill at universal translocation for zer grand finale, zer Pokenstokenhottenbeefinjectenmachen, vhich vas made all zer easier und sweeter due to zer plethora of spark plugs from zer motors of 1954 Morris Travellers vhich zer good Doktor had been collectink for zis very purpose.

It vas vizz ein enormous bang (vhich vent on for about four days) zat zer Responsezentrum und attendant time machine reappeared in its home universe. Zere vas much rejoicink amongst zer Interlockenpolyculen, vhich now included Aggie as spending zer duration of ein temporal anomaly experiencink all zat life vizz zer Doktor had to offer vas conducive to ein positive bondink experience. Zer Doktor opened zer front door vizz ein well-aimed qwill und breathed in zer familiar corridor air of home.

Vhat can ein good und noble Trollenfisch say vhen he ist arrivink in his own universe again? Vhen he knows vhere to hang his hat und hunt his slipper? Vhat else?

"Echt klasse!"


Lemony Eggnog
This is indisputably the best thing on this website. I tip my hat to you, good sir-and-or-madam. I don't even mind that it's now full of orange jelly, slowly dripping down my face, and into my collar, and... hnh. That's how good this series is. ;)

You're still a mad genius! I like the fourth wall humor in this installment, adds another layer to the whole setup. Also, mad props to the Doktor for convincing a married couple to join his harem XD