The Master was walking along the side of a dirt highway enjoying the fresh breeze and warm sun when he heard the sound of a horse coming up behind him. Turning his head, he saw a horse-drawn carriage driven by a man wearing a hat, a scarf and a greatcoat. The Master wondered suspiciously why anyone would be bundled up like that on such a pleasant day. As the carriage gained on him, the Master felt in his pocket for the tissue compression eliminator.
The driver pulled up beside the Master and slowed his horse."Would you like a ride? It's a ways to town yet."
The Master raised his eyes to the driver, fully intending to decline the offer. But what he saw stopped him with his mouth open. His impression from a distance had been correct; the man was totally bundled up. He was wearing a floppy hat, a ridiculously long multi-toned scarf; and underneath the open overcoat, the Master now saw comfortable, tweedy clothes.
How could two people in the universe dress in such a bizarre manner? the Master wondered. Can he know the Doctor? Impulsively he said, "Yes, I'd appreciate a ride, thank you." He climbed onto the seat beside the driver.
The man waited until the Master was settled comfortably. Then he said, "Lovely day, sir. Have a jellybaby." He proffered the Master a little white paper bag. He did it so naturally that the Master reached inside reflexively, but the bag was empty.
Puzzled, he raised his eyes to his new companion.
The man laughed cheerily and said, "You're not supposed to reach into the bag! It's empty - it's only meant to be a symbol of friendship." He eyed the Master's black velvet clothing and continued, "You must be from a far village judging from your behavior and your dress, good sir. When you get to town, I advise you to buy a scarf and a bag."
Well, the TARDIS data bank had mentioned that the natives were eccentric.
The driver clicked his tongue at the horse and jogged the reins. As he started the carriage up again he said, "By the way, my name is Lazarrn."
"I am The Master."
Lazzarn wrinkled his brow a little at this declaration, but smiled and nodded equably. "Pleased to meet you, Master."
As they rode along at a comfortable pace, the Master began to regret the impulse which had led him to accept the offer of a lift. If this man was a friend of the Doctor, the Master didn't want to know. Why spoil the first holiday he'd had in eons thinking about the Doctor? Admittedly, he had been momentarily carried away by his curiosity, but now that he was back in control of himself, he needed to come up with an excuse to get Lazarrn to stop the carriage and let him off.
Getting a word in edgewise proved impossible, however. Lazarrn was extremely talkative, and in a few minutes the Master learned more about his host than he really wanted to know. The endless flow of superficial chatter washed over him almost soothingly. Lazarrn seemed harmless enough; the Master decided to bow to the inevitable and ride into town with him. Once they arrived, he would simply turn around and walk back to the TARDIS. The exercise would do him good.
Soon the Master saw carriages coming from the opposite direction. As they passed within hailing distance of Lazarrn's carriage, Lazarrn called "Lovely day!" cheerily to each and every driver, and each replied in kind. Whether or not they had hats or coats, the Master noticed that all the drivers wore absurdly long multi-colored scarves. If he didn't want to be reminded of the Doctor, it was beginning to look as though he had picked the wrong planet for a holiday.
The buildings by the side of the road were coming closer together, and soon the carriage arrived in the center of town. People strolled casually in and out of shops, apparently without a care in the world. "Lovely day. Have a jellybaby," they greeted each other cheerfully. Little white paper bags flourished.
As Lazarrn navigated his carriage down the crowded main street, the Master shook his head in bewilderment. Like Lazarrn, every last man wore a long, dangling, gaily-colored scarf. Many also wore a hat or a greatcoat, or both. The men without hats had unkempt, curly hair. Glancing surreptitiously at Lazarrn, the Master saw that under his hat, he, too, sported a large mop of unruly hair. The Master could no longer convince himself that the Doctor was not involved with all this in some way.
Suddenly the Master noticed something else: all the women had long, white scarves wound around their necks and their hair was worn straight and parted down the middle. There were quite a few pink coats. This must be the influence of one of the Doctor's interminable female companions, he thought with disgust.
Lazarrn brought the carriage to a halt at the front of the largest building on the street and jumped down to hitch the horse to the railing. Three men stood behind the railing, talking quietly. As Lazarrn's carriage pulled up, they had turned to greet him. "Lovely day, Lazarrn," two of them chorused, "have a jellybaby." Now all three were staring intently at the Master, who was beginning to think that getting a scarf might not be such a bad idea after all.
The Master climbed down from the carriage and bowed slightly in their direction. "Greetings," he said cautiously
"Lovely day; have a jellybaby," came the inevitable reply, followed by the equally inevitable paper bags. Once again only two of the men took part in the peculiar ritual; the third merely watched the Master with interest.
Lazarrn beamed widely and began introductions all around. "My friends," he said, "this is the Master. I picked him up as he was walking down the main highway. He is obviously a stranger to our ways, so let us make him feel welcome. Master, I'd like you to meet Morvva, Lynedd, and Reserakk." As Lazarrn pronounced each name, the man in question waggled the fringed edge of his scarf cheerily. The exception was Reserakk, who merely nodded his head briefly.
The Master's curiosity had by now passed the point of no return. "Excuse me," he said uncertainly. "I couldn't help wondering about something. By any chance, do you know someone who calls himself 'the Doctor'?"