“How does this thing work?” asked Two as he warily studied his paintball gun. He accidentally pulled the trigger and squeaked as a shot rang out. Three would have laughed but he was busy running from Five, who was a bit trigger happy.
“Take that, Tegan! Take that, Master! Take that, Adric!” Five shouted as he shot randomly at innocent bunnies and squirrels.
Six tore the gun from his hands. “That’s it. You’re out of this round.”
Five’s eyes widened. “What? No!!!”
Six nodded. “Yes, Five. You just can’t go around shooting things willy nilly! That’s what the Daleks do!”
“Please Six, let me stay! I’ll shoot at the enemy if you want me to!” Five pleaded, looking at Six with a puppy dog look.
Six sighed and rolled his eyes, relenting. “Alright, you can stay.”
As Five cheered, Six turned to Seven, who was unusually quiet. “Doing alright, Seven?”
Seven nodded and resumed trying to aim his gun straight at a tree nearby. The force of the shot made him lose the aim and he shot into the sky. Six facepalmed as Seven troed to avoid being hit by three dead birds that fell from the sky. “Am I the only one of us that can use a gun?” Six groaned.
“I can use a gun,” protested Three as he threw down his paintball. “Just not this. I tend to lean toward the big guns.” He took out a massive paintball gun.
“Hmph,” Six grunted, even though he was a little bit awed.
Six checked that his gun was loaded and looked across the field at their targets. “Two against five, huh?” he asked Three.
“Three against Five!” said Five as he scampered to join Six and Three at the front lines.
Six looked over their side of the field. Seven was holding his nose was walking around the dead birds, Two was cursing since he just shot himself in the face twice, and Five was currently holding the gun in the wrong direction.
Six leaned toward Three and whispered, “We are so screwed.”
The Red Team:
“We are so screwed,” muttered Nine.
Eight didn’t even know how to shoot, and Ten was afraid of the guns, wailing, “No, not again! Not after Gallifrey and the Master and Rassilon and stupid, stupid Wilf and...f^&*ing Vinvocci glass...” trying to crush a gun with his hands with little success.
Four turned to Eleven as the scene unfolded. “Too much punch?” he suggested, and Eleven nodded.
“I couldn’t deal with sugar back then,” he responded.
He looked at Eight, who was soaking in paint. “Looks like he’s out then.”
Four nodded grimly and started to walk away from the front lines. “Count me out too.”
“What?” Eleven said in shock. “You can’t!”
“Do you really want me to handle a gun?” asked Four. He leaned against a tree. “Good luck. I have some jelly babies to worship.”
Eleven rolled his eyes and turned to Nine, who had convinced Ten to to touch a gun and even test shot it at Eight’s face, who glared and yelled curses at them.
As Eleven approached them, he heard Nine whisper to Ten, “Just think of them as Cybermen.”
“Ready?” Eleven asked, and Nine grimaced.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” They both looked up as three birds fell from the sky.
“Seems like the other side isn’t so great either,” said Eleven, somewhat relieved.
“Evens the chances a bit.” Nine rolled his eyes while Eleven picked up his weapon.
“Let’s see if I have a better aim than my predecessors, shall we?” said Eleven. Eleven accidentally pulled at the trigger and squealed as the shot rang out. “I guess not then,” Eleven muttered as Nine laughed and Ten muttered that guns were waaay worse than pears.
The Master stood between the two teams in the middle of the field. He took out a megaphone and yelled, “EVERYBODY READY?” Most of Doctors covered their ears since he was only a few feet away from them. He took that as a yes.
“OKAY THEN. THERE ARE NO RULES, NO RESTRICTIONS. GO CRAZY WITH IT, AND OF COURSE, ENJOY YOURSELVES!!!”
The Master snickered as he put away the megaphone and ran well away from the warzone. “They are soo going to kill themselves!” he muttered as the first shots rang out. “This is way better than hanging out with the Rani any day!”
The Blue Team:
Three and Six risked a sidelong glance at each other as the Master ran off. “Nothing to lose, right?” muttered Six. Three smiled at him and aimed at the other team; shooting straight at...
The Red Team:
...Nine’s privates. Nine grunted as he fell between Ten and Eleven. Eleven stopped shooting and bent down to help him, but Nine waved him away.
“Are you sure?” Eleven asked. All he got was a groan in response. “Do you need help?” Eleven asked.
“No, leave me alone.”
“I can get you an ice pack or something...”
“Just...just leave me alone!”
“I can drag you to a tree nearby...”
“What, don’t you understand from the words ‘leave me alone’?” Nine snapped.
Eleven smiled sadly at him. “It really hurts, doesn’t it?”
Nine's eyes widened. He frowned as he scrambled to stand. “Shut up.”
Eleven grinned as Nine walked awkwardly across the field to a tree. He turned to Ten. “How are we holding...oh.” Eleven’s grin faded. Ten was soaked with paint, and Eleven realized that he himself hadn’t fared better. His whole backside was covered with paint. “And I just got my coat cleaned!” he groaned.
Eight wiped paint from his eyes and looked at the scene. Even Four was covered, paint dripping from his curls as he nibbled on a jelly baby. “We lost then,” said Eight, who was way out of the loop.
“Yep, and we need to get clean,” said Eleven as he grabbed Ten and Eight and pulled them into the elevator. He went back to drag Four and help Nine into the elevator. “If we are going to lose the first round, at least we can go to the second round clean and refreshed, right?”
Some of the Doctors agreed to this, but Nine just groaned, still recovering, and Four muttered something about gumdrop farms in Arizona.
As Eleven pressed the button for the next floor, Nine yelped and Ten cheered as disinfectant spray came from the ceiling. “This is exactly like the lift from the hospital on New Earth!” said Ten.
“I’m glad you’re happy, Ten,” said Nine grimly. “I’m practically drowning in the stuff.”
When the blow drying stage came and Ten was the only person who didn’t shriek, Eleven seriously wondered if Ten had some huge amounts of sugar before the party.
Considering the way Ten was bouncing on the balls of his feet, Eleven assumed he did.
The Blue Team:
“We won! We won!” cheered Six as he hugged Three.
Two looked on at the scene with amusement. “You’re saying that like it was impossible,” said Two.
Six patted Two on the back as he led Three to the elevator. “Because it was!” He grabbed Five and motioned to Seven to follow him into the elevator. “Come on, guys, we have another round to win!”