I take a drag off the last cigarette in me pack, the last ones always the best. Not quite sure where it is that I'm headed. That's the way it usually is innit? When I'm cruising the Synchronicity Highway. When the world is my taxi and I'm always at the right place at the right time. No place to go really, when everywhere I need to go I'll get to anyway. I flick the remnants of me cig into the cobbled street and without ceremony begin walking. There's one place I'd like to go though, I go back to see me dad, before I killed the bastard. No use living in the past though, I can't get there from here. London's dead quiet this time of night and the stars are all dead tonight. The sky's blacker than a demons heart. I turn a corner into some dark forgotten alley and sitting there, blue as anything, is an old police box. A blokes sitting out in front of it and when he sees me he starts getting all excited like. He stands up and offers his hand for me to shake.
"You're John Constantine, right?" he says.
"Yeah", I say, "and who would you be?" I take his hand and he smiles wide.
"Me? I'm the doctor"
"Doctor who?" I ask.
His smile grows wider
"Exactly"