It went something like this. Well, give or take a little artistic paraphrasing on my part, hem hem:
The TARDIS arrives in some fake snow. The TENTH DOCTOR steps out.
TENTH DOCTOR:
Tell me, scenic street urchin, is this the set of a new BBC costume drama, or am I trapped in a tin of Quality Street?
URCHIN:
It's 1851, innit. Hey, wotchu doing 'ere, guv'nor? I thought you woz leavin' the show? It said so in The Sun and everyfing!
TENTH DOCTOR:
Not until next year, idiot. Didn't you read the press release properly?
YELLING NOISE:
Doctor!!!!!!!!11111eleventy-one!!!
TENTH DOCTOR:
Donna, is that you??
It's not Donna, it's a girl in a corset called ROSITA. (Funny name for a corset, boom boom.)
ROSITA:
Doctor!!! I am being shrill in a Cockney accent and I have my bosoms pushed up to my ears!
TENTH DOCTOR:
Well, I like at least one of those things, so I think we're going to get along famously.
ROSITA:
Beat it, loser. Ah, here comes my man!
"NEXT" DOCTOR:
Yes, 'tis I! I am doing lots of SHOUTING and sound like a cross between Russ Abbot and Lord Flashheart!
TENTH DOCTOR:
You're not going to do that for the whole of the Christmas episode, are you?
"NEXT" DOCTOR:
I shall if I want to! Firstly because I'm the Doctor, and secondly because ham is traditional at Christmas!
TENTH DOCTOR:
Are you going to be this bombastic when we have sex?
"NEXT" DOCTOR:
Pardon me?
TENTH DOCTOR:
Oh, don't play coy with me, big boy. Phallic symbols at the ready? Allons-y!
Rosita buys popcorn and watches with interest.
THE END
(FOR NOW)
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