The warm glow off of the TARDIS's walls lit up the centre console, which the Doctor was whizzing around, flicking switches and pressing multicoloured buttons. Then, the Doctor stopped and stared at the light blue screen. It was all going to plan, finally, the TARDIS was going where the Doctor wanted. Maybe, just maybe, there was no planet to be saved. Impossible! But, nothing is impossible, just very unlikely. It could be possible. could it? There has to be someone or soeting in trouble.
After that quick moment of wondering; the Doctor was back pressing many buttons. A thud shuddered through the TARDIS. They had landed. Excitement glistened in the Doctor's eyes. he couldn't help running to the door and flinging it open. His face sank. A frown made its ways across the Doctor's face.
Smoke floated into the dull sky, spreading itself across it, like water in a bath, out of tall, grey, narrow chimneys. Stone houses were lined row after row after row, all identical, all boring. Very boring. The clothes of the school children were all boring aswell, all neatly done up; skirts pulled down, buttons done up, no rips in the boy's shorts, all perfect. Too boring. Thank goodness that there are aliens to send away and weak humanity to save.
But what the Doctor didn't find boring was the people bieng very busy in the small crowded streets, sellingmany different things and trying to get a horse drawn carriage. Fishmongers shouted to the nearest person to them. Store-owners were trying to sell beautiful, delicate trinkets and jewellery. Women were trying to avoid sloppy poo left by the fly covered horses. Voices hummed from the town to the very outskirts of it. This was Victorian London on a normal day, without aliens and most important of all: without the Doctor. There needed more excitement, more curiosity, but for a normal average human, this was excitement enough for thier small puny lifes. How could they stand this? They didn't know any better.
Filled with rage, the Doctor stormed down to the centre of town, to Paternoster Square. He knocked on the door three times, crossed his arms and tapped foot while he waited. After a couple of minutes, there was a sound of rusty old locks unbolting. The door swung open and the doctor was greeted by a small man covered in blue armour. The Doctor sighed. It was Strax the Sontaran.
As confident as usual, the Doctor barged his way past Strax into the long corridor. "Is Jenny or Madam Vastra here," the Doctor asked without thinking.
"Madam Vastra is out, sir..." Sterax tried to start.
"And Jenny, is she out?"
"Jenny is in the living room, cleaning. But, sir, why do you need them?" Strax continued. But the Doctor didn't listen to the question, just barged past, through the corridor, to the end and the last door on the left.
Jenny was on her hands and knees, scrubbing the carpet. She looked up and got back to her scrubbing, then said: "Hello, I wasnt expecting you today. Why are you here? There has to be something going on, or you wouldn't be here, it's been over a month and you said thatyou would be only a week. Sorry, Doctor, we've got it covered, I think."
"Is this an odinary day in Victorian London? It's boring! No aliens to defeat! How can you stand it!? There must be something or someone in trouble, or the TARDIS wouldn't have brought me here!" The Dictor moaned, at a tremendous speed.
"Well, we've always have something to do. Let's go see if Vatsra has anything suspicious."