Doctor Who rewritten - After series 6, the Eleventh Doctor figures out a way to heal Donna Noble’s whole meta-crisis memory problem and teleports her aboard the TARDIS, during her (second) wedding reception.

Donna: Who are you?!
Doctor: Ah ha, it worked!
Donna: Where am I?!
Doctor: Donna Noble, welcome back home.
Donna: What the hell is this place?!
Doctor: Oi, I forgot how loud you could yell.
Donna: Oi! Don’t you go oi-ing me. Standing there, like some smug know-it-all idiot, when it looks like you played dress-up in your granddad’s clothes. An interesting choice for a bridenapper - a bow tie. Especially one who’s - what are you, seventeen? This a new reality show? Britain’s Next Top Kidnapper?  Well, I’m not interested, thank you. So, you can wipe that ridiculous smirk off your face and turn the TARDIS around right now, Spacema - oh my god, oh my god. The TARDIS. I’m inside the TARDIS. Oh my god. And that must mean…you…
Doctor: ‘Ello!
Donna: …Doctor?!
Doctor: Who else? Like the new look? Bear in mind, that I happen to think you look lovely. All ginger and…radiant, just as a bride should be. Or wait, is it pregnant women who they say look radiant? Whomever “they” are. Anyway, like I said, welcome back Don - ooow, why are you slapping me?!
Donna: QUIT YAPPING AND FIX MY BRAIN!

Doctor Who rewritten  - Soon after meeting Alonso, Jack encounters another version of the Time Lord

Jack: Who the hell are you?
Doctor: Who do you think?
Jack: Judging by the uptight clothes and slightly hippie hair? I’ll go with college student, going through some sort of phase. And given that stunning box behind you, I know you’re with the Doctor. Interesting. He usually only invites in people with two x chromosomes. Guess you and I are lucky exceptions.  Hi. Captain Ja -
Doctor: Oi, really?! Your doing the whole flirty…name-intro, flirty mcflirt…that usual…that thing on me?
Jack: Oh. So he poisoned you against me already, huh? Prepared. Impressive. But you know - common courtesy requires that I tell you mine, you tell me yours. So, Captain Jack Harkness. Your turn.
Doctor: You’re a fan of games. Guess from the three: The Psychologist. The Doctor. The Oh Captain I’m Disappointed In You Isn’t It Obvious.
Jack: Doctor?!
Doctor: At your service. Err, take that as an all-inclusive you. Not specifically you, Harkness. I’m not sure how you’ll interpret the word “service”.
Jack: Prove it.
Doctor: Excuse me?
Jack: Pardon me for being a bit skeptical, but if you’re really the Doctor, you’ll have no problem whipping it out.
Doctor: I…uh…um…*unintelligible sputtering*.
Jack: Relax, I’m referring to your impressive tool. Your sonic one, that is.
Doctor: Ah, yes. Yes, here it is. *Shows him the sonic.* See, Doctor-comma-The. ‘Ello!
Jack: But you’re an infant!
Doctor: Oi! So says a 200…er, 500. 5-thousand - How old are you now? - So says someone really, really old!
Jack: Back at you. Sorry, it’s just that I didn’t realize regeneration meant progressively aging backwards. If I didn’t naturally look this good myself, I’d ask you for your secret. Let’s just hope that next go around you’ll still pass for Earth’s current legal age.
Doctor: *Steps back and brushed off his clothes* New clothes, too. Thoughts?
Jack: Well, It’s a little professor meets grandpa stuck in whichever-decade-meant-casually-wearing-bow-ties. But you’ve had worse. That cricket getup with the lettuce and that one with all the question marks? Yeesh. Provided some entertainment from a far while I waited to meet your Tenth self. What number’s this?
Doctor: Eleventh.
Jack: Traveling with anyone?
Doctor: No, no at the moment. A magnificent detective forced his way on in last week, but he had to go. Something about a mortal enemy, faking his own death, -  nothing special really; what I call any day ending in ‘y’. Anyway, now it’s just me and my reliable ol’ girl. *Taps the TARDIS* So, I was thinking…
Jack: Say no more. Helllllooo, you beautiful ‘ol thing. And same to you, TARDIS.

Doctor Who rewritten - Someone else appears on the “Outerspace Facebook”

The Doctor: Don’t. Just…don’t.
Donna: But, who is he?
The Doctor: Weeelllllllllllllllllll…
Donna: Oi, is it that oily haired wizard? That ‘Severeus Shape’ from that silly kids movie you made me watch last week?
The Doctor: That’s Severus Snape. And Harry Potter, let me tell you - it’s…Harry Potter is brilliant, fit for anyone, ages 1 day to 100 centuries. Don’t go insultin - er, not the point. No, that’s not Professor Snape.
Donna: Then who - ?
The Doctor: Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes, he’s called. He -
Donna: Sherlock Holmes?! Pfft…stop messing with me! That can’t be a real name! Sounds like real estate propriety. Or a locksmith shop.
The Doctor: Nah, not nearly as rubbish as other humans I’ve met. Picabo Street, Anastasia Beaverhausen, Bob Loblaw, Snoop Dog - not his real name, Benedict Cumberbatch…
Donna: Oh, that last one the pope of cucumbers?
The Doctor: Close. An actor. Met him when I crashed a BAFTA awards afterparty one year. Wasn’t too happy about his loss. Had some sort of bet with his winning co-star. Anywayyyy -
Donna: Doctor. Who. is. that. guy? Not a bad look, a white robe.
The Doctor: Oi! Will you stop interrupting? I was just about to tell -
Donna: Porn star?
The Doctor: No, he -
Donna: New Muppets character?
The Doctor: No, but -
Donna: God?
The Doctor: No, that’s -
Donna: Another Time Lord, full name The Sherlock Holmes?
The Doctor: NO!
Donna: …
The Doctor: Oh, you’re going to let me finish now, are you? Sherlock’s a fairly recent acquittance of mine. A detective. Met him and his flatmate John Watson - also calling himself a doctor - in Earth year 2011. We - welllllll, I guess you could say “teamed up” to stop this other man, a mad genius really, from his outrageous plan to harvest the power of his own expertly crafted television programming to permanently damage the very souls of millions of human viewers. Sherlock claimed he was human, but with a mind that twisted? I highly doubt it. Name was, err, Steven Moffat, I believe. Anyway, from time to time, Sherlock here and I, together with doctor Watson, meet up for tea and bananas. And -
Donna: Doctor.
The Doctor: What? Too complicated?
Donna: No, it’s just that…you’re rambling. Clearly hiding something. What is it?
The Doctor: Huh? Nothing.
Donna: No, you’re clearing concealing a big mysterious something. It’s not just the rapid speech, you don’t even want me to look at him.
The Doctor: Well, it’s…
Donna: Yeah?
The Doctor: He’s…it’s…fine, I’ll just say it straight: Sherlock’s may be smarter than me.
Donna: Really?! While being such a pretty boy, with mammoth checkbones?
Sherlock: You know I can hear you?

Doctor Who rewritten - The Doctor responds to an unusual letter

Bad Wolf! Bad Wolf! Bad Wolf! Bad Wolf!
He travels across the Universe, often with a hyperactive grin,
He got the companion application that you just sent in.
It needs consideration, so let the games begin!
Throughout Space and Time, a show of force,
Something brilliant, would be nice of course.
Bad Wolf! Bad Wolf! Bad Wolf! He’s rad!
The BBC casting crew is watching, so beware,
You’d be in a few bromantical scenes, we swear.
So impress the Doctor greatly, and you two will be a pair,
He’ll sonic up, you’ll be floored. Allons-y!
Signed,
Time Lord

Doctor Who rewritten - Confused by her peculiar lingering memories, Donna visits a certain unusual consultant.

Sherlock: So, who was murdered and why should I care?
Donna: Uh, no one, I -
Sherlock: Then I don’t care.
Donna: But -
Sherlock: Look to your left. See that wooden thing there? It’s called a door. I think you’ll get along well. Good afternoon, Miss -
Donna: Oi, you listen to me, Clue Man! I didn’t travel all this way for nothing. You’re looking for interesting cases, right? Well, what if I told you that I have memories - vivid ones - of Mount Vesuvius erupting?
Sherlock: So? You obviously survived. Yay, you.
Donna: …No, but that was thousands of years ago.
Sherlock: Was it?
Donna: Yessss. What’d you think, I meant yesterday?!
Sherlock: I only just learned that the Earth revolves around Venus - or the Sun, or whatever object John here insists that we travel around - last month. Why should I concern myself with France’s volcanic history?
Donna: Rome’s.
Sherlock: Again, what’s it to me?
Donna: Well, it isn’t just that. Every night, I have the strangest dreams. A library covering an entire planet, bees disappearing, these bald creatures with spaghetti stuffed in their months, a man with a rubbish name - something like ‘Captain Jackoff Hardness’, white fluffy things that jump out of fat, meeting Agatha Christie, giant insects - oh, and throughout it all, I’m with a Martian as skinny as a toothpick and the hair of a wild bird, who -
Sherlock: Your point?
Donna: It feels like something’s missing. Something major. Like I have amnesia, but I don’t even remember that I have it. I don’t know, maybe I’ve been drugged because I witnessed a murder? Or…something. Please, Mr. Holmes, it’s been nearly 12 months. I’ve seen 4 psychiatrists - none of them have helped. Do you -
Sherlock: Yes.
Donna: Yes…what?
Sherlock: Yes, I’ll take the case. You’ll pay well. Not that I usually care about money, but I wouldn’t mind draining a lottery winner of her wealth.
Donna: Oh. At least you’re honest. Most people - wait, how’d you know I won the lottery?
Sherlock: Please. With earrings like those? Clearly pricey, not to mention tacky. Plus, the painted nails. And the haircut. And the velvet top. The whole look screams new money, done up by someone overly excited by it all, not making wise decisions. And how else besides the lottery could a former temp look that way?
Donna: How’d you know -
Sherlock: That after 14 to 16-and-a-half years as a temporary office staff member, you quit thanks to your lottery win and are now concentrating on conceiving a flock of bossy little ginger children? Your knees.
Donna: My knees…told you all that? Oh you are mad! I like it.
Sherlock: But change the name. Your last name, Temple-Noble. Sounds like a religious estate. Only adds to the number of people befriending you for your money. Either that, or it gives the impression that you’re royalty. Which clearly you’re not.
Donna: Oi, and rude!  Don’t think I’ve never met anyone quite like you.
Sherlock: Yes, well I may be rude but at least I’m not…ginger. Now, talk. And John, stop staring; Breasts are only a pair of mammary glands.

Doctor Who rewritten - The metacrisis Tenth Doctor is exploring some random cities in his brand new(is) Universe, when Scottish gingerness happens.

Amy: Where am I?
Doctor: What? But - What?! You…you can’t just go around appearing out of thin air. Or thick air. Or medium-density air. Any kind of air!
Amy: Who are -
Doctor: Wellllllll, maybe if you had a cloak of invisibility and then you took it off, but those won’t be invented on Earth until the 82nd century. Oh, wait -  tell me, in this Universe, have invisibility cloaks already been invented? Ah, that’s brillian -
Amy: I said, “Who are you?” And where on Earth am I?
Doctor: Yup, Earth. Nevada, to be exact. And the Doctor. Err, reverse that answer order.
Amy: Did you say the Doctor? The Doctor?
Doctor: Yup-p. That’s me. ‘Ello!
Amy: Very funny. What are we, playing some alien teleportation-y hide-and-go-seek, without my knowledge? Where is he?
Doctor: Where’s who?
Amy: The Doctor.
Doctor: I just told you. Nevada, United States. Just outside Las Vegas. Or well - I believe they call it Las Gaygas here. Not sure why. Maybe something to do with the real Sherlock Holmes and John Watson and a case they solved here.
Amy: Are you mad?
Doctor: Mad?! Me? On a beautiful, sunny day like this? Nah, I’m quite happy. You?
Amy: Oh, I’m mad all right. And with the way you talk, you’ve clearly met the Doctor. So tell me: where is he? I’m not in the mood for another one of his games. Not since Twister turned radioactive last week…
Doctor: Ah, I see what happened. You know the Doctor?
Amy: Yes. Wow, you listen well.
Doctor: Thanks! I’ve got pretty good ears. Not nearly as big as my last go around, but - ooh, that was sarcasm, wasn’t it? Wow, the Doctor traveling with a sarcastic ginger. Original.
Amy: Was that sarcasm?
Doctor: Yeah, sorry. Bit rude, me. Even without the ginger.
Amy: How do you know him?
Doctor: Who, the Doctor? Wellllll, I don’t. Not yours anyway. Not that he’s “yours” per say. You don’t own him. Not like he’s a pet. Oh tell me he’s not a pet, now is he? I’ve never quite believed it, but there’s ancient tales of a Time Lord turned potbelly pig. Ahem - anywayyy, I know, knew, I’m currently knowing, ectera the Doctor because I am is.
Amy: …You are him?
Doctor: Was. Is. Grew out of his once-was-his-hand. Uhh, tenses aren’t all the important. The point is: if anyone can find a way to get you back to him and your Universe, it’s me.
Amy: I’m meant to believe that?
Doctor: Yup. You clearly believe in a lot of things, Miss -
Amy: Amy. Amy Pond.
Doctor: Nice to meet you, Amy, Amy Pond. Oh - Pond! Suddenly, I’m thirsty. Anywho, the Doctor doesn’t travel with harsh skeptics. Now -
Amy: Let me guess - “Come along, Pond?”
Doctor: What?! No. Ew, is that what he’s saying now? Bit…cheesy. Even for him. No, no, I for one prefer something tamer. Calmer. More refined. ALLONS-Y, AMY!

Doctor Who rewritten - After saving Madge and her family, the Eleventh Doctor pops over to just a few months earlier and a few neighborhoods away to visit a fantastic man

Eleven: ‘Ello! I’m -
Nine: Who the hell are you?
Eleven: Young and rude? Wowzer. As I was saying, I’m the caretaker. Now don’t ask me “Caretaker who?”. Just the Caretaker.
Nine: Ah, wrong house then. You don’t look like an orphan girl. Sorry. But first, tell me. Uh, might seem like a stupid question, but then again I’m pretty stupid, me. Have you noticed an object that fell from the sky recently?
Eleven: You mean besides all the big loud explode-y things from the air raid? No…not recently. And you are most certainly not at the wrong house. Have you seen this house? It’s gorgeous! And I should know, I live in a quite an extraordinary place myself. Come on in, Doctor. I’ll cook you up a nice Christmas Eve dinner. Let me guess: just a banana will do?
Nine: Nah, not really hungry. I’ve got a good stomach. And I better get back to - wait, how’d you know my name?
Eleven: Ah. That. Yes. Uh, see I’m a student. Earning my doctorate in History, and you’re all over the books. You and Rose Tyler? You’re the stuff of legend! It’s an honor to meet you, really.
Nine: Thanks? I would say the same to you, but I’d rather not lie.
Eleven: ‘Course not. No, you don’t seem like a liar. Not at all. Tell you what though: just come in to use the phone. Perhaps somehow it’ll help you locate Captain Ja -  uh, that big sky-falling-y thinga-majig you mentioned.
Nine: Oh, alright. Just for a sec then, thanks.
Eleven: No problem! May I take your coat? That’s quite magnificent leather there. Leather is cool. I’d wear some myself, but it really doesn’t suit this face. Best left with my young, “Watch out Universe, I’m a tough guy!” phase.

Doctor Who rewritten - Leslie Knope as the Doctor’s companion

Leslie: Okay, so I was thinking that first we’d go to the inauguration of the first female President of the United States. And then we’ll attend whatever celebrations they have for the highest female government officer of every planet in the Milky Way. And then, since we’ll need some energy, we’ll go to Hershey, Pennsylvania and eat lots of Milky Ways. Or wait - those aren’t Hershey brand, are they? No, it’s Mars company. Uch c’mon, Leslie, know your candy facts. Okay, well either way - we’ll eat some Milky Ways, and then go to Mars - the planet, I mean. And then I want to see Venus, Mercury, and all the other solar system planets - including Pluto, to show it that even dwarfs are loved and deserve recognition. And then I want to meet every resident of Pawnee who has ever and will ever live. And then we should visit the 1950s because I’ve always thought I’d look good in a poodle skirt, belting catchy tunes and sipping a milkshake. Oh and on our way, I want to pick up gifts for everyone! The world’s first giant teddy bear for Ann, Greg Kinnear’s autograph for Donna, something P. Diddy-ish for Tom, Tammy Swanson’s death certificate for Ron, some real Italian pizza for Ben…because suck it, calzones, pizza’s better, socks for Jerr - wait, shouldn’t you be writing this all down? Hang on, I know I have a banana-scented pen somewhere…
Doctor: Nah, Time Lord brain. Got it. Though actually, I was thinking you’d enjoy if we first stop by the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.
Leslie: Oh, yay! I want to buy a life-size Dumbledore doll to great everyone when they first enter town hall! But, hmm..I think I can wait on that. It’s in America this century, so let’s not make it priority.
Doctor: WHAT?! No, not the Orlando theme park. I meant the Wizarding World of Harry Potter galaxy, built in the year 7155 - a hop, skip, and a broom ride away from the Andromeda Galaxy. Did you really think that a tiny section of Earth alone could sustain the popularity of J.K. Rowling’s masterpiece? Come on, Leslie, you’re smarter than that. You’ll be President in -
Leslie: What?!
Doctor: Uh, I said…you’ll…you’ll be present - I’ll get you a present. Some nice…waffles. When we visit Belgium.
Leslie: No, you said that I’d be President! Is that true? President of a book club? The Ann Perkins’ appreciation society? Or of the United States…of America?!
Doctor: Nope, I didn’t say anything. You’ll have to wait and see. No spoilers, today. Nope, Knope. Ha! Get it - because your last name? Blimey. *Notices Ron next door.* Whoa, check out that mustache. Haven’t seen one so impressive since my ‘ol pal Friedy. Nietzsche, that is. You sure he’s fully human?

Doctor Who rewritten - The Eleventh Doctor is surprised by an old mentor

Doctor: Mr. Feeny?!
Mr. Feeny: Hello, Doctor.
Doctor: What?! But, what are you doing here? I haven’t seen you since you were my 2nd year teacher in every subject at the Academy.
Mr. Feeny: Ah, yes, yes. Well, Gallifrey was a little too intense for me. I decided that the simplicity of Earth’s 1990s would be the perfect place to mold young human minds. Encourage girls and boys to meet the world, you might say. So, I’ve been a college professor in Pennsylvania, America. And before that a high school principal in a lovely suburb of Philadelphia. Oh and a high school teacher. Also, a sixth grade teacher. And a semester at Hogwarts.
Doctor: Wow! Nice sweater vest, by the way. Love a good sweater vest.
Mr. Feeny: Thank you. Nice professor look, yourself. But you know, Doctor, I came to see you because I realized that even Time Lords could use a morality lesson about life. Especially you, perhaps.
Doctor: Oh, magnificent! Or as they say in 1990s America - golly gee, that’s swell! Or is that a few decades earlier? Anyway, sounds like a cool plan. Will you also include the ‘you’re about to learn a moral lesson and maybe we’ll hug’ music?
Mr. Feeny: Free of charge.
Doctor: Cool beans! …I think that’s American 90s. Well, come along, George.  I mean - Fe Fe Fe Feeny. Feenyyy! Fe-e-e - Er, just get in the TARDIS, Mr. Feeny.

Doctor: ‘Ello, I’m the Doctor.
Amelia: Oh, I didn’t make an appointment.
Doctor: No, no, that’s not my profession. It’s my name. The Doctor. What about you?
Amelia: Well, Mr. The Doctor, it’s a letter. Between ‘T’ and ‘V’.
Doctor: Ha! Yes, of course. But what I meant was: what’s your name?
Amelia: I’m Amelia. Amelia Bedelia.
Doctor: Ah, magnificent! I know another Amelia. Pond, she’s called.
Amelia: Really? A body of water must make an unusual friend.
Doctor: Well, I’m not a usual man. Tell me Bedelia: in that last house you cleaned, did you noticed any crack in the walls?
Amelia: Heavens, no! My clients are drug-free.
Doctor: Right. Eer, I suppose I’ll just check myself later then.
Amelia: Oh, I can help with you that. *Pulls a marker out of pockets* Where should I draw it?
Doctor: What?
Amelia: The check mark.
Doctor: *Laughs* You know, I’m pretty weird, but you might even stranger.
Amelia: Stranger? No, I’ve introduced myself.
Doctor: No, no, I meant. Uh..never mind. Nice outfit, by the way. Love the hat. I’ve never worn a hat quite like that before.
Amelia: Thank you, Mr. The Doctor. I like your bow tie.
Doctor: Really?! Oh, what a sweet deal-ia, Amelia Bedelia. How right you are! Bow ties are cool.
Amelia: Has it been in the refrigerator?
Doctor: No, not that I know of. Tell you what though, Amelia, how would you like to see my very special box?
Amelia: Like a jack-in-a-box?
Doctor: Not quite. Though I have had a Jack in it before. Come along, Bedelia. All of Time and Space are waiting!
Amelia: Wow! What type of restaurant is that? I’m used to human servers.

Doctor Who rewritten - In between a trip to Disneyland Clom and Pluto’s own Jurassic Park, the Doctor stops by the equally exciting destination of Pawnee, Indiana

Doctor: Andy Dwyer? Lead singer of Mouse Rat? Ah, brilliant! Or sorry, are you on Scarecrow Boat now? Possum Pendulum? Nothing Rhymes with Blorange? Sorry, it’s…uh, wellllll, it’s a bit confusing for anyone - though specially me, sorry. And might I suggest Nothing With with Raxacoricofallapatorius as a future name? Anyyyway, it’s absolutely brilliant to meet you! I’m the Doctor, by the way.
Andy: OH MY GOD! Wait, what’s happening? I won a free pregnancy test?
Doctor: What?! No. Although, I guess you could say you’ve won something far better: the trip of a lifetime. What do you say? All of Time and Space - everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was? Only thing you have to decide, Andrew, is where to start. We could meet Elvis. Or embark on a tour of the Universe’s all-time greatest shoe shiniests. By the way, do you do trainers? My ‘ol shoes could really use a nice shine. Oh! Or I’ve heard of your friend, ‘Lil Sebastian. Maybe we’ll visit a planet ruled by miniature horses? Wait, no, no, no, here it is: How’d you like to name a galaxy April?
Andy: YES, everything! Let’s start right now! …Only thing is though: my brain froze, and I have no idea what words you just said. My audition tape finally worked for The Amazing Race?

Doctor Who rewritten - The Doctor crash-lands in 1955, Hill Valley, California

Doc Brown: Great Scott! You’re not the DeLorean!
Doctor: The DeLorean? No, but I went to school with the Ferrari. Oh, she was a feisty girl! Anyway, ‘ello! I’m the Doctor.
Doc Brown: Damn, so am I. Actually, I’m a student of all the sciences. Let me guess - you’re a uh, you’re a physicist! Nice box there. Failed experiment? Oh and this fine boy is -
Marty: Jack! Uh, I’m Jack…Nicholson. (Whispering to his Doc:) Why should we trust this guy?
Doc: (to the Doctor) Oh right yes, and I’m Doc…Martens.
Doctor: How magnificent! Doctor Emmett Lathrop Brown and Martin Seamus McFly - such a clever duo! Like Bonnie and Clyde. Abbott and Castello. Harry and Ron - whoops, sorry. Not that last one…yet.
Marty: Yeaah. Uh, thanks, we - wait, how’d you know our names?!
Doctor: Err, spoilers.
Doc: Spoilers?! What are spoilers? Hmm, perhaps the DeLorean could use a set of spoilers. Could help manage the constant airflow.
Doctor: Spoilers are bits of information about the future. Your personal future.
Doc: Great Scott, do you mean what I think you mean?! You’re a -
Doctor: Time traveler? Yes, ‘ello! Pleased to see you again, Doc. Marty.
Marty: But we haven’t met you before.
Doctor: Exactly.
Marty: Whoa, this is heavy.