Elsewhere, the sun shone brightly through a cloudless sky, while a small desert rat nimbly began its ascent up to a flocculent peak – namely, the head of a man who had long since given up struggling against his bonds, a man with a sandy bow tie: a man with a craving for Custard Creams. It was his irrational craving that helped him to persevere through the growing numbness in his left arm, coupled with the peculiar faint sensation one gets after losing a lot of blood. A normal man would have craved water in this situation, and wished for his mother – but this was far from a normal man (if indeed he even was one), and his mother was... complicated. He didn't know how long he had been secured to the track, but he did know that if the sun had absconded the effects of the time loop, it wouldn't be long until the train repetitively knocking against him did too. His watchful blue eyes slowly scanned his surroundings, while his brilliant mind prayed for a Deus Ex Machina.
The Ponds paced through the streets towards the sound of the gunfire, eager to reconvene with The Doctor and decipher the mystery behind their strange environment. They arrived at a shadowy doorway, which appeared to contain the source of the apparent trouble. Silently, Amy signalled with her fingers, three, two, one: The Ponds bumped into each other as they attempted to creep into the building, their limbs becoming entangled as they tumbled down a flight of stairs.
"Ouch", groaned Rory, expecting to look up into the face of an angry cowboy. In a way, he did – but this was a cowboy on the silver screen, in what appeared to be a scene from a 60's Western film, and also appeared to be the source of the gunfire – right now the projected figures were in the middle of a full on overblown battle. Rory twisted round and confirmed his suspicions; they were in a cinema, though strangely enough, one seemingly from their own time period.
Before he had time to mull the irregularity over, a voice from beneath him complained, "Are you going to get off me any time soon?"
After checking for broken limbs, The Ponds briefly examined the cinema before making a hasty exit (the sound was deafening) and stumbled out into the daylight. Rory, first out of the door, was greeted with the muzzle of a worn out revolver pointing directly at his head.
"This town ain't big enough for the both of us," snarled a cowboy that Rory could have sworn he had seen in the film.
"Have you tried Bognor Regis?" asked Rory. "It's got a lovely little tearoom, and a gift –"
Just at that moment, Amy shoved Rory down on to the dusty ground as a fist smacked into the wall obscured just moments earlier by his head.
"Run!" Amy yelled, as Rory scrambled to his feet and followed his wife (that was still taking some getting used to) away from their aggressor. They powered through the streets, not noticing that they weren't being pursued, nor that they had ran into open desert. Finally, as they stopped to catch their breath, the duo took stock of their surroundings.
"Is that a train?" Amy frowned.