"Right," Davies said. "So in this scene, the Doctor will sprint down the hallway…"
"More running?" David complained. "Why always the running? Why can't I walk for a change?"
"Because," Davies said impatiently, "If you walked, the bad guys would catch you."
David glared at the producer but stood in position.
"Okay. So the Doctor sprints down this hallway here, but just before he reaches the door, the supreme Dalek is going to swoop out of the hole in the ceiling in front of him!" He waved his arms dramatically. "And the Dalek is going to say…"
"Exterminate?" One of the camera operators guessed.
"Shocking. The man reads minds." The producer rolled his eyes. "And one last thing," he raised his voice so all on the set could hear. "David is not the Doctor. He's David."
"I UN-DER-STAND," Said a Dalek voice from somewhere above the set. "DO NOT EX-TER-MIN-ATE DAVID."
Satisfied, Davies gave a hand signal that meant, "Action!" On cue, David moved down the hallway at a dead sprint, and safely reached the door at the other end. He looked about confusedly, and then said, "Wasn't there supposed to be a Dalek in there somewhere?"
Belatedly, Spool dropped from the sky and shouted, "EXTER-MIN-ATE!"
"You're late, Spool," sighed the Davies. "You're supposed to drop earlier."
"I HAVE NO RE-GRETS," Spool bellowed.
"I don't care if you regret it or not. I do, however, care that you came in late." Davies caught the attention of the camera operators. "Get ready to roll again."
"NO RE-GRETS!" Spool insisted, and the prop managers had to usher him off stage.
David sauntered back into position, ruffled up his hair, and got ready to run.
"Action!"
The running started again. David passed under the hole in the ceiling at the exact moment Spool swooped down. There was a horrible moment in David's eyes when time slowed and all he saw was a gigantic eyestalk on a collision course with his head, and then he was suddenly sprawled backwards on the cement.
"EXTER-MIN-ATE!" Spool shouted again.
"Spool," the producer said with an impatient tone. "If you hit the actors, we can't get on with the scene. David, up. We're shooting again."
"Could somebody please stop the room?" David slurred. "I want to get off."
"I AM IN-COM-PET-ENT!" Spool cried, and a weird mechanical sobbing noise emanated from him. He flew back up through the hole in the ceiling, sobbing as he went.
The producer buried his face in his palm. He waved to a couple of crew members offset. "Barker, Puttock, go administer first aid to David. "Edwards, go console the incompetent Dalek."
Edwards pointed to himself with an incredulous, "Me?"
"Yes, you!" The producer snapped. "Go!"
The crewman walked off, grumbling under his breath.
Suddenly, there was a crash, and the Dalek's voice could be heard. "I AM UN-WORRRRTHY! I CAN-NOT PUR-SUE A LIFE OF ACT-TING! IT'S NOT WORTH IT!"
"Spool, calm down!" Edwards was shouting. "You were born to act!"
"NO. I AM LEAV-ING. DO NOT STOP ME. I SHALL SET-TLE DOWN AND START A FAM-IL-Y."
There was a crash, and Edwards slumped back onto the set and said, "He's leaving to start a family and says he won't come back to the acting business."
Davies pulled at his hair. "Did you see where he went?"
Edwards snorted derisively. "No. I'm not your Dalek's keeper."
"We've got to find him! He'll kill us all!" the producer yelled. "Quick, split up and find him. The first person to bring him back in gets a cameo appearance in our next show. Now go!"
The promise of a reward and threat of world annihilation had all the crew members scrambling at once. The calls of searchers echoed through the studio. Davies went to fetch Moffat and search for the Dalek.
David remained on the ground, staring dazedly at the ceiling.
