Disclaimer: I checked under the Christmas tree yesterday morning, but sadly, I still do not own Doctor Who. Or any of the companies these commercials are based off of.
"Artie?" The Doctor called out. He held his arms in front of him, slowly feeling his way around the house. "Artie, Artie? Am I getting warm?"
This game was ridiculous. Who's idea was it to strap a blindfold onto a poor man and have him search endlessly for the seeing folk? He never should've agreed into playing.
"Am I getting warm?" He repeated. "Look, I'm pretty sure you have to tell me if I'm getting warm. I'm - I'm pretty sure that's in the rules."
He heard footsteps. There they were.
"Doctor?" Nope, that was Clara.
Unless Artie had developed an impeccable talent for ventriloquism.
"Ha! Clara. How are you? Don't worry, everything is under control," he assured Clara/ventriloquist Artie.
"What are you doing?"
"Oh." So it was Clara, then. "Mister Maitland went next door, so I said I'd look after the kids. They wanted to go to the cinema, but I said 'no.' I said no, not until you wake up. I was very firm." He pointed his finger so as to appear as "firm" as possible.
"At which point they suggested Blind Man's Buff."
"Yes." Maybe she'd seen them. "Where are they?"
Clara's footsteps grew louder, and the Doctor felt her reach around his head to undo the blindfold. She sighed. "At the Cinema."
Oh. "The little..." the Timelord searched for a suitable insult. "Daleks!"
He glanced down at her, expecting her usual grin. It had been replaced by an expression the Doctor could only describe as concern.
"What's wrong?"
Suddenly, everything faded away into whiteness. An over-exuberant man's voice echoed all around the displaced Timelord as he turned about in confusion.
"Doctor Who," it boomed. "Is brought to you in part by WhyFi. Rethink plausible."
"What?!" The Doctor frowned. "Where's Clara?"
The scenery shifted as he was thrust into a kindergarten room setting. A man sat at a table surrounded by small children.
"What's the largest number you can think of?" He asked them.
The Doctor scoffed. "Oh, that's obvious, it's a Kameroxian seven. Sounds like a little number, but in reality, is a huge number. Literally, huge. They built it to be viewable from miles away in space, the size of a small planet."
The group turned and stared at him.
"Who are-"
"-It's not that hard to get." That blasted voice interrupted the little girl as a giant map of the USA appeared. "Larger is cooler. WhyFi has the nation's lar-"
"-What is going on?!" Shouted the Doctor. "What've you done with Clara?!"
Suddenly, his surroundings shifted as an ecstatic woman appeared next to him, biting into a pear.
"Now, that's just disgusting," the Timelord muttered.
"Pears are healthy. That's why you should try -"
"Pears are disgusting," the Doctor corrected. "Believe me, I'm a Doctor, I would know."
Suddenly, a family of five in a large SUV came hurtling towards the Last of the Timelords.
"Oh, no," he muttered as he blinked at his impending doom. "The worst possible fate. How could this happen? I'm in... I'm in..."
The Doctor turned to camera, a single tear flowing down his cheek.
"A commercial break," he whispered disgustedly.
