Drabble: Race
by: Flaming Trails

“What the ever-loving hell?”

Clockwork looked up from his current attempt to fix the coffeemaker. “What is it, Vic?”

Vic waved him over to the window. “You gotta come see this for yourself.”

Puzzled, Doc finished up his work and joined her at the window. Victoria pointed to the stretch of street outside the Inkwell. “Now watch.”

“For what?”

“You’ll see.”

There was a brief moment of quiet. Then, suddenly, a familiar DeLorean streaked by, horn honking. Following closely was a bright blue police call box, bouncing along in an effort to keep up. The pair watched the two vehicles as they raced down to the end of the street. Vic turned to Doc with a distinct “WTF?” expression. “What in the name of Sir Isaac H. Newton do you make of that one?”

Doc stared after the two for a moment. Then, slowly, he said, “When Dee asked me if she could have a friend over for a race, this isn’t at all what I thought she meant.”

The End