Commemorating the Armistice Centenary
(11th November, 2018)
Number 10 Downing Street was heavily packed with crowds and police guards, waiting to hear an important announcement. The front door opened, revealing an eager Prime Minister David Lloyd George with a prepared speech. Behind him was the Doctor, leaning on the TARDIS a few metres away; he exchanged winks with Lloyd George, without trying to attract attention from the crowds. On the podium, Lloyd George began to address his nation.
"The war will soon be over."
The crowds murmured for a moment and paused. They suddenly gave a shocking round of applause. The Doctor listened to the distant claps and cheers, whilst grinning with pride.
"Thank you, thank you," Lloyd George called to his audience. "Thank you, indeed!" He gave his final wave and turned round to walk back inside. As the front door closed, the Doctor stuck his arm out to give Lloyd George a handshake.
"Prime Minister," he began.
"Doctor, I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon," Lloyd George reacted in delight, shaking his hand.
"Ah, yes. They all mistook me for you, despite having no Welsh accent and moustache. Too young to be a grandfather myself, right now."
Lloyd George chuckled. "Come on, let's celebrate."
The two gentlemen walked up the staircase and headed towards the Cabinet Room. Before entering, they spotted a young Winston Churchill who was holding a cigar, right at the door.
"Winston, my friend," the Doctor greeted.
"My dear old Doctor, I never thought today could be any better," replied Churchill. "Can't stay for long, have to sort a few things out before heading back to Dundee."
"Not to worry, Winston, he's Number 10's special visitor today."
"Will be back again, for sure." The Doctor thought for a second. "Who knows?"
"Enjoy yourselves, gentlemen." Churchill breathed out some inhaled tobacco smoke.
"Good day, Winston," the Doctor waved, as Lloyd George ushered him into the Cabinet Room.
The Doctor took a seat at the grand table. Lloyd George picked up a bottle of champagne from the sideboard.
"I don't usually drink, but it's definitely worth it at war's end."
"Your treat, Prime Minister. Go for it."
Lloyd George placed the bottle on the table, opposite the Doctor, and poured a full glass each. He sat down and both raised their glasses.
"For the country."
"For the human race."
They clinked their glasses together and both took sips.
"Ahh, nice," Lloyd George felt refreshed.
"Mmm, not bad, actually," the Doctor complemented.
"So tell me, Doctor, what brings you here today then?"
There was a pause. The Doctor had to think of a response that was good enough for Lloyd George to take him seriously.
"They're all gone. Dead and vanished."
"Who?"
"My people, my home planet. Obliterated in an everlasting war with the Daleks, more brutal than what the Central Powers have done."
Lloyd George took a breath. "What happened to your people?"
"I killed them. Every single life taken. The High Council were so full of hate and anger, I had no choice but to take drastic action."
"Here," Lloyd George grabbed the bottle and poured into the Doctor's glass. "Have another drink."
"Thank you, Prime Minister," the Doctor sipped before resuming. "But that wasn't all. I destroyed dozens of Daleks… in self defence. Shot them to the point where I successfully penetrated their armour."
"Go on," said Lloyd George, pouring more champagne into both glasses. They both casually took more gulps without even realising.
"It was only a few hours ago when I managed to move on, before arriving here." He was beginning to feel a bit drunk. "Well, for a start, I saved this blond girl from a group of killer shop-window dummies. Accidentally pulled one of their arms off - literally!"
Lloyd George laughed his head off in response. "What could be more weirder than that?" The Doctor continued rambling, as Lloyd George poured two full glasses of champagne.
"If I can find another bottle, Doctor, I will not impose taxes."
"On the house, it is then!"
They both took a single gulp, simultaneously. "Ahh, cor blimey," sighed Lloyd George. The Doctor struggled to swallow his last mouthful of champagne; he began to feel a bit dizzy.
"David," he moaned. "David…" He unconsciously pushed his glass away and fell on his front, right on the table. Lloyd George froze for a moment. No blink of an eye, he grinned in delight.