Ramblings from Apalapachia...

Doctor: Can I have an apple? All I can think about: app - wait, don’t I know you? Sally: No, I don’t think so. Doctor: Oh but, I do! You’re Sally. Sally Canary. No, no, wait - Sally Ibis. Err, Sally Dove? Parakeet? I know not Sally Pengui - Sally: Sparrow. Doctor: Right, right - Sally Sparrow! Oh, how are you? Lovely night for a stroll, I suppose? Thanks again for the whole sending-the-TARDIS-back-and-getting-me-out-of-1969 incident. Rubbish year. The weeping ang - Sally: I’m sorry, who are you?? Doctor: What, don’t you remember me?! I suppose viewing dvd features with instructions from a time traveling alien is an ordinary everyday experience for you? I’m the Doctor. Sally: Doctor who? Doctor: The. Just the Doctor. Remember time-robbing angel statues? A madman with professor-y glasses talking through your telly?  Any of this ringing any bells? Metaphorically, that is. Sally: Yes, I remember the Doctor, of course. But how do you know him? Doctor: I already told you, I am him. Gosh, and I thought you were smart. Whoops, sorry, suppose I’m still a bit rude. Sally: But, but you look nothing like the Doctor! I know he’s a time traveler and all, but I doubt he would go and get advanced plastic surgery in say, a thousand years, just to look like you. Doctor: Hey, don’t insult the face! I haven’t even had a chance to see this one myself. Feels like I have a big forehead though. Tell me: do I have a big forehead? Sally: I don’t know. It’s…a forehead. Now, do ya mind telling me who you actually are? I’m running a bit out of patience, and - Doctor: I’ve been telling you the truth, Sally Flamingo -  I’m the Doctor. You just met me in a previous body. When I was all lanky, and my hair resembled a cockatoo. Oh that’s another bird! Appropriate. Ya see, when I die, I don’t actually die. My DNA’s just totally written and wham, woosh, wee - pick your own w-noise, I have a new body. I guess you could say I’m like a phoenix. Today is just full of birds, isn’t it? Hmm, forget the apple. Got any turkey? Sally: This is absolute non-sense and your box is crushing my…(suddenly stops talking, and just stares) Doctor: Your garden? Whoops, sorry about that. Sally: Oh my god! Your box! Why didn’t I recognize it before? It’s the police box. The same police box. Doctor, it is you, isn’t it? Doctor: Finally. So, where are we on that barbeque chicken?