When the doctor woke up, he was completely surrounded by flames.
Standing up, he whirled around a few times, looking at the burning TARDIS, before tripping over his legs and falling down.
"Well then!" He yelled, "Longer legs than I'm used to! But on the bright side- wait." He paused, his eyes darting from side to side, "Why do I have an American accent?" He asked out loud. "Great, American, and I think I need glasses. Fantastic! Alright, still a man, this is good, this is good, nothing abnormal. WAIT!" He yelled. He snatched a piece of his hair and held it right in front of his eyes, as he was having trouble seeing. He sneered at the offending lock.
"I'M STILL NOT GINGER!" He screamed, letting the dirty blond piece of hair fall back into place. The TARDIS shook with warning, and he ran to the control, just in time to steer it into a controlled crash. He fell to the floor again, limbs spread out around him. He stumbled to the door, and tripped out onto a large pile of what felt like sand.
"The hell did that come from?" Someone above him asked.
"Whoa, man, are you okay?" Another voice asked, presumably directed towards him. The doctor stood up, smiling and brushing sand off his suit. He saw vague orange blurs, and heard the roar of machinery, so he assumed this was a construction site.
"Hello, I'm The Doctor!" He said cheerily to the people in front of him.
"I think he needs a doctor." One woman mumbled.
"Oh, no need to worry, I'm fine," He assured, swaying a bit. "Fit as a fiddle, hollow chest, good strong heartbea- wait." He said, frowning. "Heart-beat? Heart BEAT? HEARTBEAT? SINGULAR?" He screamed, his hand over his chest. He pulled a stethoscope from his jacket and fixed it over his ears, listening feverishly.
"Heartbeat." He said faintly. He threw both his fists into the sky and screamed, "WHAT IS THIS BULLSHIT?"
