Looking towards the back of the room, he could see a couple of latecomers lumbering through the doors. By Rassilon's Arse, they looked more like men in rubber suits than erstwhile conquerors of all creation! Still, they'd make excellent cannon fodder...
The Master smiled his wicked little smile. The Doctor could not hope to prevail against this vicious horde of thugs and bullies. This time - to use a charming little phrase he had picked up during his time on Earth - his ass was toast!
'One-two. One-two. Can you hear me at the back?' said the Master, checking his microphone. Something at the back of the war-room waved a claw in acknowledgement.
'My friends,' he began, 'We are gathered here today with a common goal, a singular aim...Death to the Doctor!'
At this point, he had expected lots of whooping, cheering and applause, but the hall remained silent. He had forgotten that the most notorious scum of the Universe had eradicated all trace of emotion centuries ago. Ah well, thought the Master, sod ‘em...
'My plan is this,' he continued, 'We shall attack the Doctor one at a time, slowly but surely wearing down his strength and resolve, until he is incapable of resisting us, I promise you my friends, we shall make him pay for his constant interference in our nefarious schemes!
Now then, I propose that we begin the campaign by sending in or crack troops...'
'Our crack troops?' intoned the Cyberleader.
'Yes. We'll soften him up with an all-out onslaught by the most powerful, ruthlessly evil race in the Universe...'
'And who might that be, exactly?' asked a green tentacled Suidoid from the planet Kwak.
'Well...' the Master floundered, suddenly realising that he'd made a terrible mistake.
'We are the Daleks!!! We are the supreme beings of the Universe!!!! ' suggested Davros.
'The Cybermen are INVINCIBLE!' boomed the Cyberleader, shaking his fist in a very emotional manner.
'You are no match for the might of the Sontarans,' gurgled Commander Stagron.
The Cyberleader turned to face him. 'We could defeat you with one arm tied behind our backs!'
'Oh yes. You and whose army?' said Stagron, giving him the finger.
The Master was panicking. Fights were breaking out all around him as alien monsters squabbled over who the baddest of them all. Things had gone horribly wrong.
'My friends! Please, we must...'
But it was too late.
The Zygons were inviting the Ice Warriors to 'Come and have a go if you think you're hard enough!'
The Daleks were trundling back and forth, waving their gun sticks and squawking 'Want some of this? Do you want some of this?'
And the Cybermen and Sontarans had come to blows, kicking and slapping at each other like a bunch of school girls.
The Master put his head in his hands and groaned.
A week later, the Doctor scratched his head in bewilderment. It seemed that his greatest foes were at war with each other, all of them engaged in a senseless orgy of death and destruction.
'You know,' he muttered to no-one in particular, 'I can't understand why they don't all get together and take me on..?'