This time they materialised, out of all places, at a Fourth of July party in the southwestern United States. Actually, they'd landed about a hundred yards away in the middle of nowhere and walked into the party. It was a church-sponsored event, they learned. People came out from a nearby town to hold the celebration way out in the country at an old schoolhouse that had been converted into a sort of community center. (It was also a sort of museum about the pioneer town that had once thrived in that spot. Barbara enjoyed the history lesson.) A large pickup was overflowing with fireworks for the evening and there was a firetruck on standby in case things went wrong.
At first, they tried to apologise for their intrusion, but the people were more than happy to have the TARDIS crew to join the celebration. They were incredibly welcoming, Ian discovered. They hadn't been there ten minutes before people started asking them what church they went to, and then providing them with a calendar of activities. ("If y'all are gonna stay around here much longer, feel free to come on down to Wednesday night services! We'd love to have you!")
The Doctor had been keen on leaving, seeing nothing around that interested him, but eventually agreed when Vicki gave a little pout. She'd since run off with some people her own age to go look at a neighbour's horses.
Meanwhile, Ian and Barbara mingled with the other folks, putting up with the occasional joke whenever somebody remembered what the holiday was for, and listening to travel stories. ("You know, my niece's friend went to England once...")
After a lengthy prayer from the Pastor and a slightly on-key rendition of The Star Spangled Banner, it was time to enjoy the barbeque that had been smelling so good. Ian and Barbara each got a plate, grabbed a drink, and managed to find a picnic table that was relatively empty. Barbara went to take a sip of her drink and made a face.
"What's the matter?" asked Ian, trying to be heard over the church band that was now playing.
Still looking disgusted, she managed to swallow before replying, "What is this?!"
Ian took a look at his own plastic cup and shrugged. "I don't know," he said. The drinks had been sitting on a table for people to take. Barbara held the cup out to him, asking him to try it. One sip later and he too was trying not to spit it out.
"What was that?!" he asked, horrified.
"I think it's..." she hesitated, "Let me try yours...urgh! It's the same! They've let the tea go cold!"
"Cold?!" exclaimed Ian, "It's not just cold, they went and put ice in it! On purpose!"
"And so much sugar! Do you think there's any left at the store?"
They stared at their cups, completely bewildered. The ice floated menacingly in the amber liquid. Beads of condensation ran down the sides and pooled on the picnic table. "...and people here drink this?" Ian wondered.
"They must," she replied, "Nearly everyone else has a cup. And I just saw that man over there putting lemon in his."
Ian shuddered. "Insane. They're all insane."
"Now, Ian, it's probably a cultural thing..."
"This culture's insane! You know, I think it must be the heat," he said, trying to make sense of it all somehow, "Have you seen how little most of the women around here are wearing? Er, and the men, too!" he added, seeing the look on her face. But it was true. The outfit of choice for the evening seemed to be shorts and sleeveless shirts. Even Barbara had changed into something similar.
"Yes. I'll admit I'd much rather have a cold drink on a day like this," she said, fanning herself, "but tea? Putting ice in perfectly good tea?"
"Do you think they have anything else?
"I didn't see anything."
"Well, I'm not drinking this!"
They sat there in silence trying to figure out their next move. "They've let us stay without any fuss," said Barbara, "would it be too rude to not drink it?"
"I don't know. It's always the little things. First you don't drink the tea, then this turns out to be a deadly insult, next thing you know you're getting run out of town by an angry mob. I mean, these people put ice in the tea! Who knows what else they might do."
"Oh, Ian! We're on Earth, in America. Surely it wouldn't come to that."
"We're also in Texas." They stopped to consider this.
"Perhaps we could just do without a drink?" suggested Barbara.
"Or I'll go get the Doctor, you find Vicki, and we'll make a break for it in the
TARDIS."
"...all right, let's do that."
Before they could escape, a rather plump elderly woman from the next table leaned over and tapped Barbara on the shoulder, "Hey, if y'all don't like the tea that's fine," she said jovially, "Y'all can just go on over to Miss Debbie over there, she'll get ya a coke out of the cooler or somethin'. Or," she said conspiratorially, "if y'all want somethin' a little stronger, Ray Johnson over there -guy with the purple hat and three fingers- Ray brought some of the good stuff. I know we're Christian, but I don't think Jesus is gonna mind if we drink a little." Laughing, she gave Barbara a hearty pat on the shoulder and turned back around.
After a few seconds, Ian asked, "Care for a drink, Barbara?"