'Ace!' The cry came from the console room

'I'm sorry professor, it was an accident"

'It's ruined now, you've destroyed it'

Going into the console room, you see two figures standing by a mushroom shaped object in the middle of the room.

These two figures are people. The female one is wearing street clothes of the eighties, nineteen eighties, not any other eighties. The male one was wearing a multi-coloured coat, that was far below the fashion of the nineteen eighties.

The source of the argument is seen on the floor.

It is an umbrella. Not very nice umbrella, in fact, it was a very ugly umbrella, all multi-coloured and bold, quite like its owner. And it was in a very bad state at the moment.

The afore-mentioned umbrella looked as if somebody had been holding it in a very strong wind.

'What were you doing in the butterfly room anyway?'

'The ventilators in the lab are on the blink. It gets very smoky when an experiment goes wrong.'

'So you decided to go outside. Why did you take my umbrella, in case it rained?' he asked sarcastically.

Ace looked down in embarrassment.

'You did think it would rain! It never rains in the butterfly room, you should know that'

'I did. I didn't know a hurricane would blow out of nowhere though!'

'A hurricane!' he exclaimed, cutting off the rest of her response. 'It was mere zephyr. A slight breeze. Not a hurricane.' He tutted slightly under his breath, and turned to begin his tirade again, but she had left. 'I shall have to get my umbrella fixed!' he announced to himself.

By a street corner, in England, in what a casual bystander may presume to be the summer of 1938, a London police box, not to e used for a few decades yet, materialised.

Out of the box came the man from the previous paragraph, carrying the broken umbrella.

He stood by the box and listened.

Soon he heard the noise he had been listening for.

'Toodle-uma-luma' it went. Then it went 'Toodle-uma-luma' again. Then, just for fun, it said 'Toodle-lye-aye'

'Sir', the man yelled at the figure that had been singing. 'I am in dire need of your assistance. A tragedy has occurred and only you can help.' He held out his umbrella. 'Can you fix this?'

'Why, of course I can' said the singer. 'I fix all umbrellas be they small or big'

'How do you fix them?'

'Why, I fix them with what you would call a thingamajig.'

With that he took out his thingamajig and fixed the umbrella.

'There you go sir.' He said handing back the fixed umbrella. 'That will be tuppence.'

The man in the patchwork coat, with the fixed umbrella, watched as the umbrella man walked away, singing 'Toodle-uma-luma,Toodle-uma-luma, Toodle-lye aye. Any umbrellas to mend today?'