Come along, Pond! Yes, well, it’s a brilliant noise. I love that noise. Goodbye, Clara. Bow ties are cool. Brave heart, Clara. Please tell me I didn’t get old. Anything but old. I was young! Oh… is he grey? Geronimo! I once spent a hell of a long time trying to get a gobby Australian to Heathrow airport. No idea. Just do what I do: hold tight and pretend it’s a plan. There’s something that doesn’t make sense. Let’s go and poke it with a stick. I know. Dinosaurs! On a spaceship! Father Christmas. Santa Claus. Or, as I’ve always known him, Jeff.
You are the only mystery worth solving. Father Christmas. Santa Claus. Or, as I’ve always known him, Jeff. Usually called ‘The Doctor.’ Or ‘The Caretaker.’ Or ‘Get off this planet.’ Though, strictly speaking, that probably isn’t a name. Oh, I always rip out the last page of a book. Then it doesn’t have to end. I hate endings! Look at me. No plans, no backup, no weapons worth a damn. Oh, and something else I don’t have: anything to lose. So, if you’re sitting up there with your silly little spaceships and your silly little guns and you’ve any plans on taking the Pandorica tonight; just remember who’s standing in your way. Remember every black day I ever stopped you and then, and then, do the smart thing. Let somebody else try first.