Everyone seems to get so worked up over negative reviews. And I mean everyone, hence, another chapter about just that.

FLAME WARS

Peri ran down the corridor full pelt. The sound coming from the room ahead did not sound good. Was the Doctor having a seizure? The answer came a few seconds before she arrived as a wastepaper basket—empty, thankfully—came flying out the open doorway, bouncing off the far wall.

Peri skidded to a halt and very cautiously peeked into the room. The Doctor wasn't having a seizure. He was having a tantrum. The papers he had been printing off for more than a week were scattered everywhere. The Doctor himself was standing in the middle of the room and in the process of giving the mound next to him a savage kick, sending more papers flying.

"Idiotic! Unimaginative!" the Doctor grumbled. He following up in a language Peri had never heard before, but by his tone, she could tell it was nothing complimentary.

"Doctor…" Peri said tentatively. "Is…everything okay?" Naturally everything was not okay, but she could think of nothing else to say at the time and went for the obvious.

The reply was just as Peri anticipated. "Okay? Okay!" the Doctor thundered. "No, everything is not okay." He dropped into the chair at the desk and crossed his arms. It was all his companion could do not to laugh. He looked like a little boy sulking.

Peri tried again, forcing a smile onto her face and making certain to keep her voice light. "I thought you were doing reviews. All done?" The look she got in reply made her wince. Great. It's gone wrong.

"Why is it you humans can't take a little constructive criticism?"

Peri rolled her eyes. The Doctor's idea of constructive criticism was as subtle as boulders on butterflies. "Not everyone can take having their faults pointed out to them as well as you do, Doctor," she said mildly.

The Doctor looked up sharply. "What faults!" He received a you-must-be-joking sideways look and cleared his throat. "Ah, yes. Very wise, young Peri."

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out how to stroke an ego the size of yours, Peri thought but wisely kept to herself. "So your input wasn't met with raves, I take it?"

The Doctor's fingers started to clatter on the computer keyboard. "No, they were not." He pointed at the document on the screen that Peri had only recently learned was called an e-mail. "Look here. This uneducated Philistine actually replied that they were from Virginia not Palestine." He looked up. "This moron is too stupid to even realize they're a moron."

Peri cleared her throat. "Well, you do have a tendency to talk over people's heads."

"I what?"

"Not everyone has the complete contents of the Oxford dictionary in their heads, Doctor."

The Doctor blinked. "Well…" His anger cooled slightly at this backhanded complement. "Yes, alright. I will grudgingly agree on that point."

Peri breathed a sigh of relief. Headway! she thought, only to groan inwardly when the Doctor pointed to the screen.

"Here! Look at this. I'm being accused of being a troll!"

"I'm guessing that's bad," came the patient reply.

The Doctor gave his companion a fierce look. "Yes, that's bad. And what's worse, this so-call moderator has the gall to accuse me of starting a flame war!" He gave a derisive snort, waving a hand at the screen. "All I did was start a lively discussion on the benefits of adhering to the proper rules of grammar."

"Yeah, like Mrs. O'Leary's cow only knocked over a bucket."

"Peri, this is hardly comparable to the Chicago fire," the Doctor shot back. "This…dolt is threatening to have me banned. Me!"

Peri had to stifle a laugh.

"Oh, yes, laugh. I'm sure this is all very funny to you."

"Doctor," Peri said in as placating a voice as she could manage, "you're not the only one who's taking this seriously. You know how thin skinned humans can be."

The Doctor's clear blue eyes opened wide. "I am only trying to help," he began in earnestly.

"As you always do," Peri broke in. "But, admit it. Not everyone welcomes your help, now, do they?"

"No, they don't," the Time Lord conceded with a sigh. It was always a mystery to him that his help was refused so often. One day, he might figure out why. He turned back to the screen, his temper flaring again. "But just look—"

"No, you look," Peri replied forcefully. She reached over and turned off the monitor. "You've been in this room for days, staring at that computer and getting all worked up over the stories your fans write about you." She paused for the usual outburst and was amazed when it did not come. The Doctor actually looked…shocked. He was also listening, so she pressed on. "Your fans, Doctor. Aren't you just the tiniest bit flattered that they care enough to try to write about you?"

"Well…perhaps just a little," the Doctor admitted, adding forcefully, "Although I'd be much happier if they did it properly."

Peri smiled, taking him by the hand. "Never mind that, Doctor, You've spent enough time in here. We've been in my future for a week, and all I know about it is the internet and a double lattes. I want to see more. And I want to see it now."

The Doctor laughed and got to his feet. "Miss Brown, you can be very pushy when you want to be."

"Is that a criticism, Doctor?"

"No, no," the Time Lord grinned. "Merely an observation."

"Oh, good," Peri replied breezily. "I'd hate to have to get into a flame war with you."

The Doctor gave her an amused smile. "I doubt that you'd win. I have fought in a lot of wars, y'know."

"Yes, I've been in a few of them with you, remember?"

"Then you remember that I always win," he said smugly as he vanished through the door.

An evil smile came to Peri's face. She could not resist calling after him. "Troll!"

"Peri!"