The Parting of the Crisps

The Parting of the Crisps
by Neo

Steven Moffat fiddled with his toy figurine of Chris Eccleston. He placed it near his figurines of David Tennant and Matt Smith, before turning it to face himself.
Steven was meeting with the man himself later in the day. Miraculously, he’d managed to finally get David and Matt to sign their contracts for the 50th. He’d shelved his Jenna-only script with great relief.
“No Doctor Who fan wants to see Jenna dance around in different outfits for ninety minutes”, Steven muttered to himself, scowling at his previous foolishness. He was even more stressed than usual. He still hadn’t figured out an ending, or a title, to the series 7 finale, and he had little thought on what to do in the 50th anniversary besides some sort of power move over Russell.
He peered deep into the Eccleston figurine’s eyes, trying to imagine how the day’s conversation would go. The meeting wasn’t for another hour, but Steven always get terribly hungry with nervous, and so he brought out a packet of crisps - salt and vinegar, his favourite - to munch on in the meantime.
Out of the corner of his eye, Steven could have sworn he saw the Eccleston figurine move. He snapped his head around, but nothing seemed to have changed except…had the figurine’s hands been extended like that beforehand?
Steven chomped down on a crisp, unsettled. Then he looked at his watch and realised he’s misread the time, and should leave right away. Flustered, he stuffed the packet of crisps into his jacket pocket and dashed out the door.

***

Christopher Eccleston shuffled in his seat. He’d been waiting for Steven Moffat to show up for ten minutes now. He wasn’t due to show up for fifteen minutes, but a man should be early if he wants to show respect.
Steven had rang him three times now, politely enough, explaining how much he wanted him back on the show, how important the 50th anniversary was, how many working-class Northern children he could inspire to act in future with an appearance. And Christopher had enjoyed his episodes, particularly how none of them had taken place in hoighty-toighty London.
But to bathe in the same river twice? The thought disquieted him. Memories of the production of his series still plagued him. He leaned back in his chair, frowning, thinking it over…

***

Steven arrived on time, only to find Chris already seated, frowning up a storm. An oncoming storm.
“Chris, Chris, great to see you, I’m so enormously thankful to you for taking this meeting,” Steven gushed.
“Yes, hello Steven,” Chris replied, crisply.
An hour or so passed.
To break the ice, Steven brought up some of Chris’ recent work, but received little in the way of response. He then brought up some other recent shows, but nothing brought on any reaction except for Sheridan Smith’s Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps, to which Chris’ eyes flared with an animalistic lust.
Slightly disturbed, Steven moved on to explaining his plans for the anniversary. Chris grunted in response. Steven made some regular quips, most went over cold, but a choice few about Benedict Cumberbatch and Eddie Redmayne saw Chris grin, before muttering something about a “milky, anodyne culture”.
Steven forgoed lunch to give himself more chance to talk and explain his vision, Chris methodically ate a steak. Steven tried to make a joke about how brazenly Russell had reversed the Doctor’s vegetarianism by letting Chris eat a steak in “Boom Town”, but Chris just stared back at him blankly.
A rare moment of bonding came when the two of them agreed that setting Amy Pond’s story far out of London was a refreshing move for the show.
With increasing hope, as well as many witnesses, Steven began to realise he may well be near his reward - he might have truly convinced Chris. Feeling more relaxed, and suddenly conscious how hungry he was after skipping lunch, he pulled the packet of crisps out of his jacket pocket.
Chris glanced at him, then gave him a double take.

***

Christopher had began to seriously mull over Steven’s offer since Steven had made a joke at that posh git Benedict Cumberbatch’s expense. Later, Steven had made a crack at David Tennant’s expense, suggesting his use of an Estuary accent was traitorous to their shared Scottish origins. He really seemed to get it. This could work.
Suddenly, Steven brought out a packet of crisps. Christopher’s mind went blank. Childhood memories began to flash through his mind. His eyes began to glint with predatory fixation. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to fight his urges, but they were too strong, and he felt his naturally very casual and jovial demeanour begin to slip away.
As Steven brought a crisp up to his mouth, Christopher could hold in his lust for bullying no more, and  snatched it from his hand. Steven’s mouth gaped open (partly out of hunger, partly out of shock). He looked down to the packet in his hand, but Christopher then snatched that too.
The next few moments were a blur of beating, bleating, and bullying, as the Oncoming Storm descended upon the Grand Moff Steven.

***

Some time later, Steven blearily opened his eyes, stunned, lying down on the ground outside. Next to him was a post-it note attached to a paper bag.
“Steven,” it read. “I apologise for any hurt I’ve caused. I’m very, very ashamed of it. I remember feeling so much dislike for myself as I did it. But I did self-regulate. I did stop myself. What I did, I did in the name of crisps and vanity.”
“But not in the name of the Doctor,” Steven moaned, picking himself up.
Hurt, but mind racing with thoughts on how to end the series 7 finale and write the anniversary, he opened up the paper bag left with him.
Inside? An Eccles cake.