"Oy, what's wrong with you now?" The Doctor stared at his magnificent time ship.
It coughed at him.
He hit it with a hammer.
It coughed again.
He pressed several buttons, played with most dials, and even pushed a lever.
It ignored him completely.
He sighed.
There was a chance it sighed with him — he wasn't quite sure. What he was sure of was that he'd better park it somewhere and try to fix it while it wasn't in flight. Or, at the very least, let it rest for a little while. Maybe the Tardis could also catch the flu. He couldn't give it a nice cup of tea or a bowl of Gallifreyan chicken soup, but he could let it rest.
So he just parked. He had a vague impression he was on Earth — there was no mistaking that smell, whenever he was — but there were more important things to do.
Like open the Tardis up and discover the console was full of fluids.
"Now we can't have that, can we?" He directed this question more to himself than to the sick Tardis — who coughed at him again — and grabbed a tin container to empty the fluids into. But he couldn't find the lid. No matter where he looked around, there was no lid. Now he couldn't just leave the container opened there like that, what if it fell and all the oily stuff spread? So he left the Tardis — "just for a second, I'll be right back!" — and put it somewhere outside.
He had the vague impression of a building around him, but really, there were more important things to do. He threw himself head first to the inside of this magnificent time ship, playing around with the wires.
The Tardis hummed in approval.
The second day he had to go out for the tin container again because he still hadn't located the origin of the oil leak. He registered mild surprise to find it empty and hoped there wasn't a dog out there with a terrible stomach ache. He left the full container right where he found it.
The third day he still hadn't found the oil leak. His brain insisted he should pay more attention to the Mystery of the Disappearing Oil — after all, if it turned out the oil evaporated into the atmosphere, the result might be disastrous! — but just then the Tardis did its version of vomiting and the Doctor had way too many things on his hands to worry about oil. Literally.
The fourth day he was sure he fixed the oil leak, but then there was a small explosion and all his hard work was for nothing. He fetched the tin container once again, and would have worried some more about long-term environmental effects if it weren't for his accidental activation of the cloister bell — only he wasn't quite sure he was responsible and had to also go and check the universe wasn't about to collapse on him any moment.
The fifth day he decided to follow the oil and see where it was going. So he set the container aside in the same place as always, went back to the Tardis to fetch his coat — and discovered the whole console room flooded with more oil. Sighing, he gave up the idea of following the oil outside. He had enough to follow inside. And after all, the inside of the Tardis was so, so much bigger than anything outside.
The sixth day he had no mind for oil-following. He tripped on a wire when he came back from setting the oil outside and accidentally created a black hole in the middle of the Earth. Oops.
The Seventh day he spent reading the TT-40 capsule manual, following each and every oil route from the Eye of Harmony to the ice pool. He had to discount the Eye of Harmony, of course, and then wondered whether the Master did something when he was thrown inside, and all in all, it left him more confused than he was before, so he just gave up and emptied the oil into the container again, and put it outside.
It was on the eighth day the priests and soldiers — heavily armed soldiers, considering they just won a war — saw him putting down the container.
"Hey!" shouted one of the priests. "What are you doing?"
"I was just getting rid of — "
"The oil!" another priest shouted. "He was touching the sacred oil!"
The soldiers went for their swords. The priests started running towards him. He started running towards the Tardis.
Luckily, the Tardis was feeling so much better today. Maybe it really did just need the rest.
"And this, Donna, is why I never park the Tardis on Earth when it's in need of repairs, ever again. Although, you have to admit, these latkes are quite good!"