Doctor Who: The Glamour Chase

'Is that wise?'

The Doctor paused then shook his head. 'Nope, probably not. Ever known me to be wise?'

'Well...'

'Really?' the Doctor sounded almost affronted. 'No one ever wants to be told they're wise, Rory. Unless they're 90 years old.'

'You are ten times that.'

'Don't spoil my fun,' the Doctor said.

'He's got a shotgun. Aimed at me.'

'Try not to get shot, then, Rory. Can you manage that? Amy won't thank me if you get shot.'

'I won't thank you, either,' Rory countered.

'You'll be dead.'

'There is that,' Rory answered. 'And thanks for the vote of confidence. You're a bundle of fun today.'

Baaaa

The Doctor sighed. 'And you, my woolly friend, aren't exactly helping.'

Baaaaa

'What?'

Baaaaaaa

'I see. Rory?'

Baaaaa

'Nope. No, definitely not Rory. Although I can see some similarities. F'rinstance, you're standing there, gazing at me, assuming I know what's going on. And making strange noises that no one understands. But I'm pretty sure, despite all that, you're not Rory.'

'Ummmm, Doctor?'

'Ahhh, see, now that's Rory. But you see what I was getting at, yes?'

Baaaaaa

'Doctor?'

'Quiet, Rory. I'm talking to a sheep.'

As he vanished, Mrs Porter, like any well-bred lady from the rural 1930s just said: 'Young man, kindly tell me what on earth is going on.'

The Doctor stared. 'What? No! Be scared, woman! Shocked! Amazed! Terrified! Anything! Why aren't you scared?'

'Rory, I want you to go to the school. Bound to have a library, find out stuff.'

'Stuff? What sort of stuff?'

'Stuff stuff. Stuff about stuff. The sort of stuff that tells you stuff. Libraries are good at stuff.'

'OK,' Rory said. 'Stuff finding outing.'

Me, 0000h, a lot further away. So now we've waved our intergalactic credentials at you and no doubt blown away your mind with our brilliance, sophistication, and sexy alien hair - that's just me by the way, Rory's hair is neither alien nor sexy