Monday, December 9

Reasons Why I'd Make a Terrible Companion

   Let’s face it, the Doctor is spine-tinglingly, heart-stoppingly fantastic. He is smart, super adorable, kind, HOT (David *cough*), funny, sarcastic, eloquent and caring. He whisks your heart away with a mere flick of his sonic screwdriver and that mysterious twinkle in his eyes we've all come to adore. He makes you feel special and important. He makes you feel worth something. Why on earth wouldn't everyone want to be his companion?  You'd travel the galaxy, meet strange- exotic creatures, breathe in air from alien planets- good grief; you could even slip back in time and meet Queen Elizabeth and Christopher Columbus! (Just to make learning about them in history worth it.) Best part? You can do all that, more, and arrive home the same day you left! So who wouldn't want to travel with the doctor?


   Before you hurl my breathing carcass into a creator of liquid plasma, or set a heard of zombies to abduct me in the night, let me explain why!

   So we all know those moments where the doctor in a mad rush of jumbled, scientific, space-talk will shout something like, "PRESS THAT BLUE BUTTON THERE ON THE CONCOL, (which is the size of a pin needle and covered under a clutter of wires), OR WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE..."
Want to know what would happen?
We would all die.

  First of all, when I'm flustered I can barely string together a pair of coherent words. On top of that I suddenly become about as intelligent as a small fig leaf, and would likely end up getting the doctor in a whole lot of messes due to my brilliant way of messing up simple instructions. (As well as destroy the whole galaxy.) It just wouldn't be good for either of us, not to mention everyone else.
    Because of my empathy for the many difficult situations the Doctor's friends often get placed in, I have this huge respect for the doctor's companions, especially their way of narrowly escaping messing up his ambiguous instructions. (Moment of silent respect for companions.)

   Alright, I'm not sure if it's just me, but the episode to this very day that still creeps me out is... the waters of mars. Just picture yourself happily bouncing along at the Doctor's side, trying out french-fried flavored beverages and purple mushrooms, and then suddenly one of those water pumping, dead guys jumps out at you.
My heart would literally stop pumping blood to my brain.
   I would be so overcome with terror my bodily functions would just screech to a halt and send me plunging face first into the asphalt to make a nice easy lunch for any hungry monsters passing by. As a result, the Doctor would probably be so shocked by my abrupt abandonment from consciousness that he might just leave me there... the only other alternative would be to roll me back on a stretcher as I murmured deliriously and spewed crazed foam from my lips. (Because that sounds FUN.) On my short arrival back to earth I would spent the rest of my life in abject paranoia, and tormented insomnia, of everything.

   So, aside from my failure at life and dead fainting at creepy things, what else could there possibly be to make me a worse companion? Brace yourself.

   You know how most companions come up with these witty remarks to the doctor's tangents about his brilliance. Me? I'd be like: "What did you just say?", or something along the lines of, "I like rocks... rocks are nice." and nod like I had some idea of what was going on. My compatibility with the Doctor would be about as charming as a deaf turtle.

   I'm not saying I'm not funny, quite the contrary, I think I'm hilarious. (I know what you’re thinking... don't you dare say it.) It's just that the Doctor often seems to get kicks out of other people getting kicks out of his jokes, and sadly at times, I feel I would just be so far beyond comprehending what the heck he was talking about that I would end up receiving an awkward doctor face.

Remember that episode where Amy ends up falling into the digestive fluids of a whale? Do you remember how disgusting that was?
    I'm sure she does.
   Being a girl, (which really has nothing to do with it), I detest getting muck all over my body. If it’s below my shoulders, I can handle it. If it’s on my face, or in my hair, FIND ME A SHOWER. I've had friends rub sheep heart across my jeans; I've had friends stick slugs on my arms. However, get anywhere near my face and your life is over I don't care how close we are.
   I like how in doctor who, at one point every companion has this ghastly experience with some alien atrocity and ends up getting covered in the stuff. I especially like how the first thing out of their mouth when they see the Doctor isn't, "SOAP PLEASE." and more along the lines of, "so where are we going next?"
   This is a very large reason I would utterly fail at being a companion. My desire for adventure is not as strong as my desire to be clean.


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   I wonder if one of the secret requirements for being a companion is that you must have been on the track team all four years of high school. I swear, every episode that man is charging down some other three mile corridor just to get to a button, then back to grab a fez. His companions, without complaint, just run right after him as agile as muscular horses. Half the time I wait with baited breath for one of them to collapse, or else frantically clutch their side and shriek about a bad stitch or inflamed muscle. I wait for the moment when just one of them will stagger against the wall, panting like a wheezing giraffe; but does it come? NOPE. Those companions just keep on sprinting Gimli style, nearly invincible to the small ailments of mere out-of-shape humans.
   Then there's me. I'd likely trip right off a mountain side without knowing it was there, and then collapse in a fit of hyperventilating frantics because I've never run all day like my life depended on it. (I'm glad to say that's because it hasn't.)

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   On arrival to some distant, exotic planet, the first words out of my mouth would be something like: "Why can't I get wifi connection on my laptop?"
"You have the power to shape galaxies, change time itself, and you can't get a simple WIFI CONNECTION?"

"If you can't get my wifi going..."
"Then what's the point of you?"
  I mean, clearly Rory being erased from all time and space is a LITTLE LESS important than my ability to search cool words on the thesaurus and stalk my X-boyfriend. 

   Altogether these reasons pretty much make up why I would be such a terrible companion. I may love the Doctor, but I would find myself fully inadequate to be by his side.

1 comment :

  1. I think I'd want to know what happened to the prior companions, and if I were ever told what happened to the prior companions, I think that would be a deal breaker. The "Where Are They Now?" list for companions is pretty brutal.


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