The Doctor threw the last empty roll of duct tape over his should and looked at his handiwork with satisfaction.
"There! Let it try and fall apart now!"
Amy stared.
"It's not going to hold, you know, Doctor."
"Course it will!"
"It won't."
"It will! It will I tell you!"
"It won't! Look!"
Amy reached out and poked the wood-and-duct-tape surface of the TARDIS. There was a creaking, groaning sound, and it collapsed into a mess of wood, glass, broken sign and duct tape.
The Doctor was literally hopping on the spot with frustration.
"What did you do that for?" he cried, waving his arms around and running his hands through his hair, "I'm going to have to start again now! Amy..."
Amy shrugged, "I told you so. Why don't we just leave The TARDIS to repair itself? It can do that now, right?"
The Doctor scowled sulkily, "Well...yeee-ees...But I wanted to have a go myself!"
"Doctor, from what I've seen, you might be able to construct a time-y...wime-y...detector...thing out of staples and string-"
"A cassette recorder, an old film reel, a 1960s telephone and a postcard, actually, Miss Pond."
"Whatever, that- but you have no idea about repairing anything that had wood in it. It's not just the sonic that doesn't do wood, is it? Besides, we've run out of duct tape."