I sit, in my flat, with a blanket and popcorn as I watch yet another movie about bombing, with at least one scene where the hero or villain saunters away as something blows up.
Recently, I've been watching James Bond 007 movies. They're my favorite.
Anyway, as I'm watching, I hear a strange noise, that sounded almost exactly like my best friends' TARDIS. I pause the video, and look out the window. Indeed, a 1960's police box TARDIS is outside my flat, and a man and a woman walk out and start to try and open my door. "This will be fun" I think. I listen in to their conversations. "I told you, my sonic does not do wood!" "This isn't wood! It's made to look like it!"
When they opened the door, I knew they weren't ordinary.
I hide in the stairway and call out "state your name, number,rank, current job, and intention." The man starts saying "Doctor-" but the woman interrupts with a silencing look. She then replies with "Agent 009, undercover, nurse, speaking to you." "Really?' I inquire. 'Come on in. Who is with you?"
"Oh, Agent Gallifrey, ongoing, Doctor, with me." "Martha! What's going on?" 'James Bond' was all she said.
As they walked up the stairway, I got a good look- Agent 009, or Martha, was a woman with hair that resembled a black hole, dark and unseeming, caramel-brown skin, and was followed by a tall man with brown unruly hair, rectangular glasses and a long coat. 'So this is the Doctor...' I think. "Yes, I am. How did you know? Are you a Time Lord too?" He stealthily inquires. I jump. "You can read my mind?!"
"Yes, but I try not to do it often. James Bond fan, yes?"
"Yes.' I proudly reply. 'I'm a fan of any spy or secret time lord..."
"James Bond is a Time Lord?" "Yes. You of all people should know that. And yes, I very well could be a Time Lord. Have we met?" I ask curiously.
"No, I don't believe so... Who are you?"
"That is not of importance. Please, make yourself at home." I smile sweetly.
Neither the Doctor or Martha sit down. I grimace inwardly, then ask them why they have entered my flat. "We needed a place to land, and this time period had a Time Lord who we could talk to." It immediately dawns on me who they were referring to.
"Who, me? You must be kidding. If you want to talk to a Time Lord, talk to my friend Aqua, The Artist." The solemn faces show that it is me that they want, not Aqua.
I sigh. "What do you want?" They whisper it in my ear. I grow pale as a ghost, my eyes widen in surprise, fear and terror, and I fade into darkness.