From whofic.com
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The trouble was, no matter how hard one tried to be respectful of different cultures, there were some rituals that just struck one as patently absurd from every angle.
It all started out fairly normal, what with their being marched into the village at spear point to see the chieftain. That was all run-of-the-mill, and sort of their fault for sniffing around the local sacred monuments.
It was after the Doctor started frantic negotiations with the chieftain that things started to get odd. “No, no, no, we weren’t trespassing,” he said, “and we certainly weren’t intending to desecrate anything. No, no.”
“Then what were you doing at our sacred rock?” The chieftain wore an interesting contraption of leathery balls and string upon his head that bobbed and trembled every time he spoke.
“We were just looking,” Ian volunteered. The Doctor gave him a hard look.
“We were merely interested,” the Doctor said firmly. “We didn’t mean anything by it. We aren’t your enemies, my dear fellow. Just visitors to this lovely country of yours.”
“We come in peace!” said Susan. The Doctor swung her a similarly hard stare. Ian rolled his eyes. Honestly. How the Doctor had come to be so confident in his ability to negotiate he’d never understand.
The chieftain scrutinised each of them in turn. “You come in friendship?”
“Yes, yes! Friendship,” said the Doctor. “You see —”
The chieftain had drawn himself up to his full height, his balls clattering together. “You speak for your people. You are their leader?” he said to the Doctor.
“Yes, I’m the leader of these people,” the Doctor said, drawing himself up to his less impressive height and clutching his lapels.
“Then I challenge you.” A delighted cry went up about them, the crowd that had gathered to watch the excitement clearly thrilled with this development.
“Pardon me?” said the Doctor. “Forgive us, we aren’t familiar with your ways.”
“If you desire friendship, you must first best me,” the chieftain thumped his chest, “in our sacred contest.”
“And what is the nature of this contest?”
“We both must dance the sacred dance,” said the chieftain, “and the elders will decide who has danced best.” He motioned at the gaggle of elders, who nodded approvingly.
“Oh, no, no, out of the question,” said the Doctor, shaking his head. “I can’t be dancing about, not with these old bones of mine. It wouldn’t be fair. Would it, Chesterton? Hmm?”
“I suppose not,” said Ian. The chieftain did look to be a very sprightly fellow, not to mention far more experienced in this sacred dance.
“No, no. I don’t dance,” said the Doctor. He patted Ian’s arm. “Dance with the man, Chesterton.”
Ian turned sharply to look at him. “What?” he sputtered.
“Well, someone has to. I assume a substitute is acceptable?” he said to the chieftain. The chieftain looked to the elders, who shrugged and continued nodding.
“Doctor, I can’t,” Ian said in a mutter. “I don’t know this sacred dance of theirs.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll pick it up,” the Doctor said brightly. He patted Ian’s arm again in a manner that was probably meant to be reassuring. “I believe in you, dear boy.”
Ian looked to Barbara for back up, but she just shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll be marvellous.”
The Doctor planted a hand between Ian’s shoulder blades and gave him a firm shove forward. Ian resigned himself to his fate. “Oh, very well. I accept your challenge.”
The cry went up again, this one, if possible, even more thrilled. Two pairs of strong hands clutched him, leading him off into the chieftain’s hut. “Come,” said the chieftain. “We must see you properly dressed for the challenge.”
Ian looked back towards his friends in a last desperate bid for aid. The Doctor wore a wry smile upon his face. “I believe in you!” he called.
“Good luck, Ian!” Susan added.
Yes. Patently ridiculous. “I think I’d rather it was a fight,” Ian muttered to himself, ducking his head to avoid the lintel.
“What do you say?” said the chieftain.
“Nothing, nothing,” Ian breezed. “Let’s see about getting me dressed, shall we?”
