The Ancient Old Ones of Ospaccia
As you all know, my faithful fans and sweetiesze, I am a Time Lord (or rather Time Lady) currently on my ninth (I think) incarnation. I am over a thousand years old and therefore way, way, WAY older than all you cunts (unless there are other Time Lords or Minyans or Eternals etc lurking on here).

But even I am but a sprite, but a stripling, but a Spring chicken, but knee high to a grasshopper, compared to the Ancient Old Ones who dwelleth inside Mount Gurngubble on the distant rocky planet of Ospaccia.

Once, several incarnations ago, I was employed by the Ancient Old Ones to sort out their accounts, which had got rather muddled of late due to their dribbling senility and complete inability to manage any part of their ancient, old lives.

I materialised my TARDIS, disguised as a statue of a big stork, in the Grand Hallway of their lodge deep within the depths of Mount Gurngubble, and stepped out onto a dusty stone floor. Yellow light flickered from malfunctioning glowglobes set into the crumbling ebon walls, which were hung with threadbare tapestries depicting the grave and gormless faces of the greatest and oldest and most ancient of the Ancient Old Ones of Ospaccia. Tables and chairs of all sorts of designs and eras from Ribos Rococo to Gundan Gothic were strewn haphazardly around the giant circular hall. There was no sound apart from the sonorous ticking of the most enormous grandfather clock I had ever seen, and the air smelt of old people farts.

There was absolutely no-one there.

I searched for and eventually found what I took to be the reception desk, because of the massive rusty bell that lay across it. I picked up the bell and rang it vigorously. Though rusty, dusty, and, indeed, musty, it made a satisfyingly deafening donging noise that would wake the dead, and rouse the deaf.

I waited, but no-one came.

I wasn’t particularly bothered – I was being paid by the hour, and if the Ancient Old Ones wanted to pay me for standing around in their dim, dusty, fart-smelling reception hall, that was up to them.

Eventually, I began to discern the sound of distant, hesitant, shuffling footsteps, coming from one of the dark corridors leading off the reception hall. I waited, and watched, and at length, Lo! From the shadows did emerge the august, venerable, exalted figure of one of the Ancient Old Ones of Ospaccia!

Bit of a disappointment, really. He was just a little bald, old man, in dusty grey robes, shuffling along using what I can only describe as a Chippendale zimmer frame. This figure approached me, a look of intense concentration on his wrinkled old face, grunting with the effort of walking. I could, of course, have easily walked up to him to save time; but, as I said, I was being paid by the hour.

It took about five minutes for the Ancient Old One to reach me, and when he did, he came to an abrupt stop, and gurned up into my face (he was very short), his rheumy old eyes watering, his mouth twisted in a scowl of confusion, pain, and anger.

‘Oo’re you?’ he said.

‘I am Doctor Skagra,’ I replied. ‘I have come to sort out your accounts.’

‘Eh? Oo? Eh?’

I repeated myself.

‘Oh.’ The Ancient Old One turned around and began to laboriously shuffle away, muttering to himself.

‘Should I follow you?’ I called out.

Receiving no answer, I followed the Ancient Old One of Ospaccia deep into the caverns of Mount Gurngubble. After what seemed like hours of painstakingly slow progress through endless dripping tunnels lit only by flickering glowglobes, we came to a wooden door. This led on to a series of wood-panelled corridors lit only by flickering glowglobes, and, after what seemed like hours of painstakingly slow progress through these, we came to another wooden door, with the word ‘Refectory’ emblazoned upon it in faded gold lettering.

The Ancient Old One stopped in front of this door, and turned his wrinkly old neck to look at me with an expression of complete surprise. ‘Oo’re you?’ he said.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ I muttered, shoving past the wizened old dwarf. I pushed the door open and stepped through into a scene of utter and complete chaos.

The Refectory was a large wood-panelled room lit with the ubiquitous ancient, flickering glowglobes. Portraits depicting the grave and gormless faces of the greatest and most ancient of the Ancient Old Ones of Ospaccia glared down in seeming horror on the scene within. It looked like a combination of a Chimps Tea Party, a Greek wedding and a Viking funeral. Rows of tables were piled high with food, crockery, cutlery and glasses, and at these tables sat the Ancient Old Ones of Ospaccia. There were dozens of them, both male and female, and they were all eating, drinking, shouting, screaming, fighting, throwing food, farting, pissing, shitting or singing. The din was incredible. The smell was indescribable. I moved slowly into the melee, completely unnoticed by the Ancient Old Ones, shaking my head in dismay at their atrocious table manners. The Ancient Old One who had met me scuttled past me with a surprising turn of speed and set to a plate of chicken legs with obscene, spluttering ravenousness.

Unsure of what to do, I found a space on the nearest table and sat down, trying not to breathe more deeply. None of the Ancient Old Ones paid me the slightest bit of attention. On the table before me was a plate bearing a Scotch Egg, a Pork and Pickle Pie and a worryingly large number of pickled onions. Beside the plate was a goblet containing a dark fluid. I picked it up and sniffed it; it smelt like engine oil mixed with Ribena. I took a sip; quite pleasant actually.

‘HOY YOO!’ bellowed a voice from behind me, making me spill the drink. I turned to see a phantasmagorically ugly face squinting at me. It looked like a hippo that had been smacked repeatedly in the face with a shovel. ‘HOY YOO!’ it repeated, covering me with spittle and bits of chewed-up food.

‘Can I help you?’ I replied.

‘OOO’RE YOOO?’ the thing bellowed.

I sighed, exasperated. ‘My name is Doctor Skagra, and I am here to sort out your accounts.’

The thing’s eyes gleamed dully with a dim light of understanding. ‘OH AH!’ It turned and shuffled away. ‘Bedder get on wivvit then!’ it growled over its malformed shoulder. I was later to find out that this lumpen, malodorous beast was female, her name was Annafyma, and she was the leader of the Ancient Old Ones of Ospaccia.

Of my time on Ospaccia there is, you’ll no doubt be pleased to hear, little more to tell. I dwelled in a small room well away from the dormitories of the Ancient Old Ones, situated in small turret on the outside of Mount Gurngubble which commanded a wondrous view of the barren rocky plains of Ospaccia. I helped out in the kitchens, which was staffed by slaves, who were a good laugh really, a nice bunch. I shacked up with a gorgeous Kantrian babe called Jall and we had a torrid affair which did, I admit, get in the way of my work on the accounts but, as I said, I was being paid by the hour.

After three and a bit weeks I had sorted out their accounts (they were in quite a state!) and bade my farewell to the Ancient Old Ones of Ospaccia. Rather inevitably, as I approached Annafyma to say goodbye she glared at me and bellowed, ‘OO’RE YOU?!’

‘I am Doctor Skagra, and I have sorted out your accounts,’ I replied serenely.

‘Oh,’ grunted the gargantuan matriarch, and went back to the jar of pickled eggs she was drinking.

It was a blessed relief to get the hell out of there and back to my TARDIS, especially as Jall came with me and travelled as my companion for a while, until an unfortunate incident with some Drashigs. But that’s another story.

LAI8GHT3RZ, SWEEETIEEEESZE!

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(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Sun 1 May 2016, 15:23, 16 replies)

Set yourself on fire.

(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Sun 1 May 2016, 15:49, closed)

Bless!

(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Sun 1 May 2016, 15:52, closed)

Could you use your time travel powers to travel back to man's discovery of fire,
and then offer yourself as fuel?
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Tue 3 May 2016, 10:10, closed)

Love to oblige sweetie
but as you may know my TARDIS is up on blocks

Xxxxxxx
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Tue 3 May 2016, 19:01, closed)

I'll assume that's a euphemism.

( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Wed 4 May 2016, 9:43, closed)

He's on his bum-period

( 2 Can Chunder Word to your mums, I came to prod bums, Wed 4 May 2016, 20:33, closed)

Even if I was an actual timelord and had a practically infinite amount of time to waste I still wouldn't bother to read your posts.

( 2 Can Chunder Word to your mums, I came to prod bums, Wed 4 May 2016, 20:39, closed)

And yet you still wasted some of your precious, precious time
to leave a comment, sweetie

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(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Thu 5 May 2016, 18:55, closed)

I read that, I liked it but please don't do it again.

( Jabberwoc misses D.R. and Quinch, Wed 4 May 2016, 21:24, closed)

Sorry, sweetie
but I ain't going anywhere anytime soon. And even when I do fix my TARDIS and BUGGER off, I will still find time to post here.

For how COULD I neglect all my luvleiy sweeeeeeeetiiieeeszze!?!?!?!

XXXXXXXXXX
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Thu 5 May 2016, 18:59, closed)

and I thought
you was gonan bang the dwarf and do kinky nasty things with the pickled eggs.

DAMNIT SKAGRA I WAS SEMI HARD THEN YOU RUINED MY WANK!
(yeswehavenopasties, Sat 7 May 2016, 10:18, closed)

Sorry sweetie
I did bang the sexy Kantrian babe Jall, though.

She was tall, with long curly dark hair, deep brown eyes and a sensous mouth. She had an extremely narrow waist and long, long legs. Her tits were just about more than a handful, the perfect size. She loved me to fuck her from behind and I would scream Gallifreyan obsecenities as I pumped my Time Lord seed deep within her.

It really IS a shame about those Drashigs.

XXXX
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Sat 7 May 2016, 11:27, closed)

pump your seed?
Thought you were a woman
(andythepieman Is surfing the waves of indifference on, Wed 11 May 2016, 7:22, closed)

I am now, sweetie
but at the time of this incident I was male.

Do try to keep up XXXXXXXXXX

I'm considering writing some Brodie's Notes so that all you lovely sweetiesz can get yourselves up to speed with my fascinating life.

LAIEGH8TERSZ!

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(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Wed 11 May 2016, 19:53, closed)