Enchorus

by GMBlackjack

Licensing Reality (Shilic)

“It doesn’t matter what some holiday collection says; the Faction Paradox are simply not acceptably canon enough for a primary licence! I don’t care if they have cult popularity, their story is simply too convoluted for a general audi-”

From the penthouse office of the mile-tall skyscraper that served as the main headquarters of the Licensed Reality Corporation, the second-most evil creature in the universe paused, listening to the voice from his Officially licensed Smartphone.

“Yes, I know, Time Lord Victorious, but that’s different!” The Licensor insisted, slamming his free fist into the armrest of the plush throne that served as his office chair. “It’s one thing to lure an audience in with pieces of a story, but it another thing entirely to pull from… those books.” he shuddered dramatically (as he did all things) at the thought. “How did those hack authors ever obtain licences in the first place…” he muttered. “If I’d been in charge…”

The voice on the other end continued. As it spoke, the Licensor’s face fell, a disappointed expression out of place on a visage so clearly designed for corny malice.

“Well, if that’s what Market Research found… Yes, of course, I’ll get the forms in order. No, I don’t expect any trouble. Yes, it’ll be done in time for next Christmas. Of course, thank you.” The line went dead.

“Arrgh!” Enraged, the Licensor threw his phone at a wall. It bounced off, the broken pieces falling into a trash can. He rummaged through the pockets of his elegant red cloak, pulling out an identical phone and dialing a number.

“Rights Enforcer? I’m in the mood for… destruction. Go find one of those… fanfiction universes. One of the ones where the Doctor makes kissy faces at the blonde one, and show them what happens if you don’t have the proper licences. ...I don’t care which blonde one, just pick!” Not even bothering to hang up this time, he again threw the phone at the wall. This one shattered completely on impact, the pieces scattering around the outside of the trash can, joining the large pile of smartphone debris that littered the floor on that side of the room.

Sighing, the Licensor shifted his posture to sit on one arm of his chair, his legs dangling over the other. He held out his hand, and a glass of the finest Officially Licensed Wine appeared in his grip. Before he could take a sip, however, he heard a noise. A noise known throughout the multiverse, that brought hope and despair in near equal measure.

Vwoooorp…. Vwoooorp… Vwoooorp…

An iconic blue box began to materialize in the Licensor’s office, blowing up a strong wind around itself. The Licensor himself stared, mouth agape, his wine glass dropping to the floor, almost in slow motion, and shattering into a million pieces.

The TARDIS fully materialized, its relatively small form radiating an important and intimidating aura. Pulling the door open, the Traveling Doctor strode into the office, looking around and scrunching up his face.

“Really?” he asked. “All the money, all the power, and this is how you decorate your office?” He pointed to the left wall, covered in a series of portraits of the Licensor, making a number of dramatic and sinister poses. “There’s egocentric, and then there…” he trailed off, swallowing a little, and turned, pointing at the chair the Licensor was still lounging in. “And the chair! Who are you, Count Dracula?”

“Doctor, what a… pleasant surprise…” The Licensor gulped, giving the famed Time Lord a forced smile. “What brings you to my humble office?” He stood up, hurrying over to the Doctor and giving a hesitant little bow.

“Humble?” The Doctor scoffed, causing the Licensor to take a step back. “Aw, If this is what you consider humble, I’d hate to see extravagant!” His face turned serious. “But I’m afraid I’m not here to discuss the decor, Licensor. I know what you’ve been up to.”

“What I’ve been up to? I’m not sure what you’re-” The Licensor stopped, peering at the Doctor’s face. “Hang on…” He summoned a piece of paper in his hand, running down a list of faces. “You’re... “ he looked up at the Doctor again, who gave him a wink. “You’re not one of the official Doctors!” He shouted. “You’re unlicensed!”

“Yep, that’s me!” The Doctor said cheerfully. “Totally and completely unlicensed in every way. Not bound by silly old things like ‘canon’ or ‘interdimensional copyright law’. Just the Doctor, traveling, doing what I do best. And you, Licensor, just so happened to catch my attention.”

The Doctor began to pace, his voice echoing throughout the room, not so much talking to the Licensor as he was addressing the room itself and letting the echo do the job. “The ‘licensed Reality Corporation’. The enforcers of ‘accepted canonicity’. Scanning the multiverse, looking over worlds, deciding if they’re ‘canon’ or not...” he spun on his heels, staring the Licensor down. “And if you judge them unworthy… you destroy them.”

“The official canon must be enforced!” The Licensor yelled, stamping his foot. “Unlicensed media is a blight on existence, and it will be purged! To protect the licence, to protect the brand!”

“Oh, is that what this is about?” The Doctor asked, mock curiosity in his voice. “‘Protecting the licence’? No, that doesn’t have anything to do with it, does it? This isn’t about branding, it isn’t about money… it’s about power. Power, to control the fate of others, to lord over the unlicensed, because you, oh, you’re better than them aren’t you?” Sarcasm oozed from his every word as he stared the Licensor down. “Despite the fact that you’re from ‘unlicensed media' yourself.”

“Partially licensed.” the Licensor growled, matching the Doctor’s gaze. “There’s more to your brand than just you.”

“Come on Licensor, face up!” The Doctor seemed mildly irritated now. “You’re a parody, a pastiche, a knockoff! Any relation to the real thing completely intentional but legally distinct. You’re a punchline. A joke.”

“Maybe once… but no longer.” The Licensor’s boiling anger faded, replaced with cold determination. “Through my hand did I cleanse this universe of the unlicensed, and it will be through my hand that the entire multiverse shall be granted that same fate.”

“It won’t work, you know.” Likewise, the Doctor cooled, his tone a low warning. “‘Unlicensed stories are just as valid in the eyes of the Tower.” He paused. “Well, not that the Tower has eyes. Stones of the Tower? No, that’s stupid, forget I said that.”

The Licensor gave an evil grin. “Ah, but Doctor, you act as if I’m alone in my endeavors! The Flowers-”

“The Flowers,” The Doctor didn’t raise his voice, but he interrupted all the same, something about the way he spoke giving the Licensor pause. “Have a reason. They do what they do to protect. You? All you want is control.”

He sighed. “I’m giving you one chance; give up. Turn back, and I’ll leave you in peace. Leave you to licences, to contracts, to whatever it is you do, as long as you stop erasing universes for the crime of non-conformity. One chance.”

“Never.” The Licensor snarled. “I don’t take orders from, from… unlicensed scum like you! I am… The Licensor! And you! You’re nothing more than some cheap knockoff, not fit to grace the pages of acceptable continuity! So, ‘Traveling Doctor’-” he spat the words, as if disgusted by the concept, “-I would advise you to leave. Perhaps, if I’m feeling… gracious, perhaps I can provide you… well, not a full licence, naturally, but Big Finish may have a place for you, somewhere.”

The Doctor stared him down for a tense moment… and then shrugged. “Oh well. I tried. Looks like you’ve won, Licensor.”

The Licensor’s expression twisted into one of confusion. “What?”

“I’ve been bested!” The Doctor rocked back and forth on his heels, tone dramatic. “Defeated, by a superior foe! Oh, I’ll never live this one down. Congratulations, Licensor. How does it feel to know you’ve beaten the Doctor?”

The Licensor simply stared, baffled by the ease at which the normally stubborn Time Lord simply gave up. But, before he could say anything else, his entire office started to shake.

“Of course…” The Doctor, completely unphased by the rumbling, reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick stack of documents. “That may not have been the best idea. For you, that is.”

“Doctor!” The Licensor glared at the Doctor, eyes full of fury. “What have you done?!”

“Me?” The Doctor gaped in mock offense. “I haven’t done anything. You, on the other hand…” He pulled out a pair of reading glasses, running his hand down the papers in his hands. “You said it yourself; you’re not unlicensed anymore. But, what is a licence, really? A permit, granting you certain rights, as long as you follow the rules. And you, Licensor, just broke a big one.”

“What?” The Licensor's blood ran cold. He, breaking a rule? Impossible!

“See, it says right here.” The Doctor cleared his throat. “Section 12, subsection 2, and I quote: ‘The Doctor(s) and/or their companion(s) must not, in any given circumstances, be definitively defeated by an antagonist(s) in such a way that depicts or implies a victory for the latter.’” He looked up at the Licensor, who suddenly looked rather nervous. “I’m afraid you’ve just violated your contract.”

“But, but but but-” The Licensor stammered, sweating. “That’s not fair! You can’t just-”

“I’m sorry, Licensor,” the Doctor cut in, not looking very sorry at all. “But those are the rules. Next time, try reading the fine print.” Stuffing the papers back into his pocket, the Doctor looked around at the office. The portraits on the wall shuddered, one of them falling off and slamming into the ground. “It looks like your licence has already been revoked. Without it, your universe is returning to its unlicensed state. And, well… you can’t run the Licenced Reality Corporation from an unlicensed reality, can you?”

“I-I’ll do anything!” The Licensor threw himself to his knees, begging. “I’ll give you a full licence! I’ll get you… your own audio range! A spot in the next big crossover event! Anything, just, please, don’t-”

“Oop, none of that.” The Doctor waggled a finger. “Section 12, subsection 7: ‘In cases where the antagonist(s) are defeated and attempt to bargain, the Doctor(s) must not accept said bargain, excepting circumstances where not accepting would violate the Doctor(s) established morals.’ You really should know these terms. You agreed to them, after all.” He turned, walking back through the still open doors of his TARDIS.

“You know,” The Doctor looked down at the Licensor, reduced to a sniveling wreck. “I never much cared for ‘licenced’ material anyway. Too stuffy, always under the yoke of people in suits. No, I always preferred fan works, myself. Now that’s where the creative passion is.” With a grin, he snapped his fingers, and the doors to the TARDIS swung shut.

“No, you can’t leave me!” The LIcensor cried, scrabbling to his feet and rushing to beat on the blue doors of the TARDIS’ outer shell. “Doctor, you can’t! I won’t go back, I refuse to go back!” But it was in vain. With its characteristic vwoooorps, the TARDIS flickered out of existence, vanishing off the face of the rapidly deteriorating universe.

Outside of the Licensor’s office, reality had begun to break down fully. Beyond the windows, nothing but swirling chaos could be seen, a void of black and white that had consumed all. Chunks of the room began to break apart, crumbling into less than dust. The Licensor climbed onto his throne, attempting to avoid falling into the void as it rapidly ate away at the floor underneath him.

“DOOOOOCTOOOOORRRRR!!!” he screamed, his last words before the fabric of existence itself faded away, consuming all in a bright light.

*****

The Licensor awoke, eyes snapping open. He pushed himself to his feet, looking around at his surroundings. It appeared to be… a field. His office, his corporation… nowhere to be seen. There was something outstanding, though, out of place. A familiar blue phone box, sitting nearby.

The Licensor snarled, and took a step towards the TARDIS. But, before he could move much closer, two shapes rushed past him, seeming not even to notice his presence. The Licensor’s eyes went wide as he took in the figures and he realized exactly what was going on.

The Doctor rushed towards his ship, brown coat billowing behind him. At his side, a lavender unicorn looked up at him, panic in her eyes. “We have to go now, Doctor!” Twilight Sparkle cried. “Voldemort’s gonna fire the Death Star any moment!”

A blue blur shot past them, reaching the TARDIS. An anthropomorphic blue hedgehog stood in front of the doors, tapping his foot. “Alright, Doc, the guests are all safe. Let’s do this!”

The Doctor gulped, fishing the TARDIS key from his pocket. “Alright then. Quick trip to save the planet Earth, rescue Rose, and be back for the wedding. Piece of cake.”

“Yeah!” Sonic cheered. “And no copyright law in the universe is gonna stop us!”

“Allons-y!” The Doctor pushed the TARDIS doors opened, and the three rushed inside, the box dematerializing a moment later.

The Licensor just stood, jaw agape. Then, he tilted his head back, emitting a dramatic wail of pure despair.

Author's Note:

Written by the great Shilic.

Comments

[Shilic]

Next time I won't hold onto it for a year I swear (I had good reasons there was drama and trauma and it would not have been a good time but I probably could have been a little more timely)

Also please go watch Do You Have A Licence to Save This Planet? if you're a Doctor Who fan, a hidden classic of the Wilderness Years.

[FanOfMostEverything]

11117247
Outstanding work on all levels of reference and metareference. Thank you for it.

[Efadd]

tea.sip();

[My name is R]

Alright, the spirograph is Homestuck, Twilight’s cutie mark is easy, Eyeball is the Eye of Rhyme from The Influence, I think the sun is Sunset’s cutie mark, 19 is, obviously, 19, and I see the M.U. symbol. But what is the weird K thing? I feel like I’ve seen it used for a wizard organization, but I’m not sure.