Subject: The Doktor looked around.
Author:
Posted on: 2016-01-25 04:44:30 UTC

"Ah! It's me! Oh, vhat kind of lovely surprise vill be surprisink me today? Ve shall see, ach ja, ve shall see-ee!" He bounced -- quite literally, and with some measure of complaint from the sousaphone still wrapped around him like a particularly noisy life preserver -- over to the pile of presents and blew a brief fanfare. "Ohhh, I am feelink lucky, my vord yes!"

The Doktor knew in a moment what he wanted. It was the most present-shaped present out of the lot, right down to the pointy rosette and the beautifully-tied ribbon, and since he'd spent a brief period of time as a Christmas present, he knew of what he spoke. It seemed... perfect. There was just one teensy-veensy little problemette. A truly bijou problem, perfect for the first-time buyer.

He flopped over to the closest biped, who happened to be Lola herself, and nudged her with his tuba. "Er, excuse me. Could I possibly be prevailink upon you to help me vizz my present, please? My partner, vell, she left our RC in a bit of ein hurry, und I cannot vork zer Disguise Generator vizzout sprayink mein qwills everyvhere und turnink zer place into a minefield for her soft und fluffy paws. I am most unfortunately bereft of zer useful opposable thumbs, and, if it ist not beink to much trouble..." The Doktor shrugged helplessly, no small feat for a spiky pink balloon wrapped in a brass instrument.

Lola, on the other hand, just set her box of fluffy lifeform down on the table and crouched in front of him. "Of course I will, Doc! Least I can do for the compere." She grabbed the present (indicated by a gesticulating fin) and began to open it, making sure the paper didn't tear. "Must've been difficult to step up to the plate. Flop up? Oh God, I'm doing it again. My foot's so deep in my mouth I'll be wiping bootblack for a month, as my ol' mum used to say."

"Oh, it vas not beink so very bad," the Doktor replied, totally oblivious to the human's panic. "I admit I vas beink ein leetle nervous, but zen I vas sayink to mein self, Herr Doktor, you are ein Agent of ze Department of WhatThe. Zis ist not being so very scary! Not compared to Harry Potter doing somezink unmentionable vizz too much lukevarm coffee und completely insufficient lubrication, ja?"

"I'll, uh, I'll take your word for that, Doc," Lola said, her eyes widening slightly. "Oh hey, look at that!" She pushed the handle out. "Looks expensive. That wood's got a really lovely grain."

"Echt klasse!" The Doktor bounced up and down, eliciting a noise like a V of seriously ill geese from the sousaphone. "Ohhh, zis ist zer Jack-In-Zer-Box, ja? Let us give it a vhirl, mein Freund, let us give it a vhirl!"

Thirty seconds and a rendition of Pop Goes The Weasel that sounded suspiciously like it had been performed by an oompah band later, Doktor Trollenfisch was staring enraptured as a puppet version of Draco Malfoy bounced on an elaborate spring.

"... Well then," mumbled Lola when her brain started working again, "that was a bit... odd."

"Ohoho! I must be showink zis to meine kleine Gabrielle! She ist beink ein biiiiig fan of zer Amazink Bouncink Ferret, my vord yes! Thank you so much for your assistance, miss..."

"Lola, cob," Lola said dazedly.

"Indeed! Thank you! You vill alvays be velcome in RC 347!" The Doktor bounced off again, the new present clanking in the bell of his sousaphone.

"... Wait, how did he -- oh, never mind. I'll drink to stop thinking about that later." And Lola wandered off, her tribble box under her arm.