"You didn't really think I'd never be back, did you?"
Wilfred Mott is startled awake by a young man's voice; he had been manning the newsstand where he worked and fell asleep without realizing. "Come again?" he mumbles sleepily.
The man smiles and spreads his arms wide. "I've come to visit you, Wilf! I know you don't recognize me, but…" he trails off, tilting his head to the side as a strange droning whoosh is heard in the distance. "Oh," he mutters sadly, "I must be too early." He glances over at the telly in the booth, then squints up at the sky before sighing, "Yeah… only just met."
"What's that?" Wilf asks, now more awake, as his old eyes struggle to take in the unusual fashion sense of the apparent twenty-something standing in front of him: a bowtie and a cowboy hat.
"We've only just met, my friend, but I know you will see me again!" the stranger declares before spinning on his heel and walking away. Once he's out of earshot, he adds under his breath, "…in time."
"Wait a minute!" Wilf shouts after him confusedly. "Who are you?"
"At your service, Wilfred Mott," the Doctor calls over his shoulder. "Always at your service."
