All language subtitles for doctor.who.2005.s01e03.internal.bdrip.x264-archivist

Sneed and Company
offer their sincerest condolences, sir,

in this most trying hour.

Grandmama had a good
innings, Mr Sneed.

She was so full of life,

I can't believe she's gone.

Not gone, Mr Redpath, sir.

Merely sleeping.

May I have a moment?

Yes, of course.

I shall be in the next room
should you require anything.

(CHOKING)

Oh, no!

No!

Gwyneth!

Get down here now!
We've got another one!

(GHOULISH MOANS)

(DOCTOR WHO THEME)

DOCTOR: Hold that one down!

ROSE: I'm holding
this one down!

DOCTOR: Well,
hold them both down!

ROSE: It's not gonna work.

DOCTOR: Oi! I promised you
a time machine, and that's what you get.

Now, we've seen the future,
let's have a look at the past.

1860!
How does 1860 sound?

ROSE: What happened in 1860?

I don't know, let's find out!
Hold on, here we go!

(TARDIS WHOOSHING)

Gwyneth!

Where are you, girl?

Gwyneth!

-Where've you been? I was shouting.
-(HORSE NEIGHING)

Been in the stable, sir,
breaking the ice for Samson.

Well, get back in there
and harness him up!

Whatever for, sir?

The stiffs are
getting lively again.

Mr Redpath's grandmother,
she's up and on her feet,

and out there somewhere,
on the streets, we've got to find her.

Mr Sneed, for shame,
how many more times? It's ungodly!

Don't look at me
like it's my fault.

Now, come on. Hurry up!
She was 86. She can't have got far.

What about Mr Redpath?
Did you deal with him?

No.

She did.

That's awful, sir.

I know it's not my place, and please forgive
me for talking out of turn, sir.

But this is getting
beyond now.

Something terrible is happening in this
house, and we've got to get help.

And we will.

As soon as I get that dead old woman locked
up, and safe and sound.

Now, stop prevaricating, girl.

Get the hearse ready.
We're going bodysnatching.

(TARDIS WHOOSHING)

ROSE: Blimey!
DOCTOR: Telling me! You all right?

Yeah, I think so.
Nothing broken.

Did we make it? Where are we?

I did it!
Give the man a medal.

Earth, Naples,
December 24th, 1860.

That's so weird.
It's Christmas.

All yours.

But it's like...
Think about it, though.

Christmas, 1860,
happens once, just once,

and then it's gone,
it's finished, it'll never happen again.

Except for you.

You can go back and see
days that are dead and gone.

A hundred thousand
sunsets ago.

No wonder
you never stay still.

Not a bad life.

Better with two.

Come on then!

Oi, oi, oi!
Where do you think you're going?

1860.

Go out there
dressed like that,

you'll start a riot,
Barbarella.

There's a wardrobe
through there,

first left, second right,
third on the left, go straight ahead,

under the stairs, past the bins, fifth
door on your left. Hurry up!

Not a sign.

Where is she?

She's vanished
into the ether, sir. Where can she be?

You tell me, girl.

What do you mean?

Gwyneth, you know full well.

No, sir, I can't.

Use the sight.

It's not right, sir.

Find the old lady
or you're dismissed.

Now.

Look inside, girl.

Look deep.
Where is she?

She's lost, sir.

She's so alone.

Oh, my Lord.
So many strange things in her head.

But where?

She is excited.

About tonight.

Before she passed on,
she was going to see him.

-Who's him?
-The great man.

All the way from London,
the great, great man.

-(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
-Mr Dickens? Mr Dickens?

Excuse me, sir,
Mr Dickens, this is your call.

Are you quite well, sir?

Splendid. Splendid. Sorry!

Time you were on, sir.

Absolutely.
I was just brooding...

Christmas Eve.
Not the best of times to be alone.

Did no one
travel with you, sir?

No lady wife
waiting out front?

I'm afraid not.

You can have mine if you want.

Oh, I wouldn't dare.

I've, I've been rather,
let's say, clumsy, with family matters.

Thank God I'm too old
to cause any more trouble.

You speak as if
it's all over, sir.

Oh, it's never over!

On and on I go.

The same old show.

I'm like a ghost, condemned
to repeat myself through all eternity.

It's never too late, sir,
you could always think up some new turns.

No, I can't.

Even my imagination
grows stale.

I'm an old man,
perhaps I've thought everything I'll ever think.

Still. The lure of
the limelight's as potent as a pipe, eh?

On with the motley.

(BUZZING)

-Blimey!
-Don't laugh.

You look beautiful.

-Considering.
-Considering what?

That you're human.

I think that's a compliment.
Aren't you gonna change?

I've changed my jumper!
Come on.

You stay there,
you've done this before.

This is mine.

Ready for this?

Here we go.
History.

(LOUD APPLAUSE)

(ALL CHEERING)

(PEOPLE SINGING
CHRISTMAS CAROLS)

She's in there, sir,
I'm certain of it.

Right.

(PEOPLE TALKING INDISTINCTLY)

I got the flight a bit wrong.

-I don't care.
-It's not 1860, it's 1869.

-I don't care.
-And it's not Naples.

-I don't care.
-It's Cardiff.

Right.

Now, it is a fact
that there was nothing particular at all

about the knocker
on the door of this house.

But let any man
explain to me, if he can,

how it happened that Scrooge
having his key in the lock of the door,

saw in the knocker,

without it undergoing
any intermediate process of change,

not a knocker,
but Marley's face!

(MURMURS OF SURPRISE)

Marley's face!

It looked at Scrooge

as Marley used to look.

It looked like...

Oh, my Lord...

It looked like that!

(AUDIENCE GASP)

What phantasmagoria is this?

(ETHEREAL SHRIEKING)

That's more like it.

(HIGH-PITCHED SCREAMING)

Stay in your seats,
I, I beg you!

It is a lantern show,
trickery!

There she is, sir!

I can see that!

Whole bloomin' world
can see that!

(POLICE WHISTLES BLOWING)

Fantastic!

Did you see
where it came from?

The wag reveals
himself, does he?

I trust you're satisfied, sir!

Oi! Leave her alone.

-Doctor! I'll get them.
-Be careful!

Did it say anything?
Can it speak? I'm the Doctor, by the way.

Doctor? You look
more like a navvy.

What's wrong with this jumper?

-What are you doing?
-Oh! It's a tragedy, miss.

Don't worry yourself,
me and the master will deal with it.

Fact is, this poor lady
has been taken with a brain fever.

We have to get her
to the infirmary.

She's cold. She's dead.

Oh, my God,
what did you do to her?

(MUFFLED SHOUTS)

-What did you do that for?
-She's seen too much!

Get her in the hearse! Legs!

(PEOPLE SCREAMING)

Gas.

It's made of gas.

Rose! You're not
escaping me, sir!

What do you know about
that hob-goblin? Hmm?

Projection on glass,
I suppose. Who put you up to it?

Yeah, mate, not now, thanks.

Oi! You! Follow that hearse!

-Can't do that, sir.
-Why not?

I'll tell you why not.
I'll give you a very good reason why not.

Because this is my coach.

Well, get in, then!

Move!

-Come on! You're losing them!
-Everything in order, Mr Dickens?

-No, it is not!
-What did he say?

Let me say this first.
I am not without a sense of humour...

-Dickens? Charles Dickens?
-Yes.

-Yes!
-The Charles Dickens?

Should I remove
the gentleman, sir?

Charles Dickens!
You're brilliant, you are!

Completely 100% brilliant.
I've read them all.

Great Expectations.
Oliver Twist...

-What's the other one, the one with the ghost?
-Christmas Carol?

No, the one with the trains.
The Signal-Man, that's it. Terrifying!

The best short story
ever written!

-You're a genius.
-Do you want me to get rid of him, sir?

Uh, no, I think he can stay.

Honestly, Charles...
Can I call you Charles? I'm such a big fan.

Uh, you're a what?
A big what?

Fan. Number one fan,
that's me!

How exactly are you a "fan"?

In what way do you
resemble a means of keeping oneself cool?

No, it means fanatic.
Devoted to. Mind you, I've gotta say,

that American bit in
Martin Chuzzlewit, what's that about?

Was that just padding or what?
I mean it's rubbish, that bit.

I thought you said
you were my fan.

Oh, well,
if you can't take criticism...

Do the death of Little Nell.
It cracks me up. No! Sorry!

Forget about that.
Come on! Faster!

(URGING HORSES)

Who exactly is in that hearse?

My friend. She's only 19.
It's my fault.

She's in my care,
and now she's in danger.

Why are we wasting my time
talking about dry old books?

This is much more
important. Driver!

-Be swift! The chase is on!
-Yes, sir!

-Attaboy, Charlie.
-Nobody calls me Charlie.

-The ladies do.
-How do you know that?

I told you!
I'm your number one...

Number one fan. I know.

The poor girl's
still alive, sir,

what are we going to
do with her?

I don't know!

I didn't plan
any of this, did I?

Is it my fault
if the dead won't stay dead?

Then whose fault is it, sir?

Why is this happening to us?

(DOOR CLOSES)

I did the Bishop
a favour once.

Made his nephew
look like a cherub

even though he'd been
a fortnight in the weir.

Hey, perhaps he'll do us
an exorcism on the cheap!

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Say I'm not in.
Tell 'em we're closed.

Just, just, get rid of 'em.

(GHOSTLY WHISPERINGS)

I'm sorry, sir. We're closed.

Nonsense. Since when
did an Undertaker keep office hours?

The dead don't die
on schedule, I demand to see your master.

He's not in, sir.

Don't lie to me, child,
summon the master!

I'm awfully sorry, Mr Dickens,
but the master is indisposed.

Having trouble with your gas?

What the Shakespeare
is going on?

(MOANING)

Are you all right?

You're kidding me, yeah?
You're just kidding.

You are kidding me,
aren't you?

Okay, not kidding.

You're not allowed
inside, sir.

There's something
inside the walls.

(GASPS)

The gas pipes.

Something's living
inside the gas.

Let me out! Open the door!

-That's her!
-Please, let me out!

How dare you, sir!
This is my house.

I told you...

Let me out,
somebody open the door!

Open the door!

(SCREAMING)

I think this is my dance.

It's a prank. Must be.
We're under some mesmeric influence.

No we're not, the dead are walking.

-Hi.
-Hi. Who's your friend?

Charles Dickens.

-Okay.
-My name's the Doctor.

Who are you, then?
What do you want?

Failing! Open the rift.
We're dying.

Trapped in this form.

Cannot sustain. Help us.

(SHRIEKING)

(THUDDING)

First of all you drug me,
then you kidnap me,

and don't think
I didn't feel your hands

having a quick wander,
you dirty old man.

I won't be spoken to
like this.

Then you sent me
in a room full of zombies!

And if that ain't enough,
you swan off and leave me to die!

So come on, talk!

It's not my fault,
it's this house!

It always had a reputation.

Haunted.

But I never had much bother until
about three months back, and then the stiffs...

...the, um,

the dear departed
started getting restless.

Tommyrot!

You witnessed it!

Can't keep
the beggars down, sir.

They walk.

And it's the queerest thing,
but they hang onto scraps...

Two sugars, sir,
just how you like it.

One old fellow
who used to be a sexton

almost walked into his
own memorial service.

Just like the old lady
going to your performance, sir,

just as she planned.

Morbid fancy.

Oh, Charles, you were there.

I saw nothing but an illusion.

If you're going to deny it,
don't waste my time, just shut up.

What about the gas?

That's new, sir.
I never seen anything like that.

Means it's getting stronger,
the rift's getting wider

and something's
sneaking through.

-What's the rift?
-A weak point in time and space.

A connection between
this place and another.

That's the cause of
ghost stories, most of the time.

That's how I got
the house so cheap,

stories going back
generations.

(DOOR CLOSES)

Echoes in the dark.
Queer songs in the air.

And this feeling,
like a shadow

passing over your soul.

Mind you, truth be told,
it's been good for business,

just what people expect from
a gloomy old trade like mine.

(FAINT GHOSTLY WHISPERS)

Impossible!

Checking for strings?

Wires... perhaps.

There must be some
mechanism behind this fraud.

Oh, come on, Charles.

All right, I shouldn't have
told you to shut up. I'm sorry.

But you've got one of
the best minds in the world.

You saw those gas creatures.

I cannot accept that.

And what does
the human body do when it decomposes?

It breaks down
and produces gas.

Perfect home
for these gas things.

They can slip inside
and use it as a vehicle,

-just like your driver and his coach.
-Stop it!

Can it be that
I have the world entirely wrong?

Not wrong.
There's just more to learn.

I've always
railed against the fantasists!

Oh, I loved an illusion
as much as the next man,

revelled in them,
but that's exactly what they were, illusions.

The real world
is something else.

I dedicated myself to that.
Injustices,

the great social causes.

I hoped that
I was a force for good.

Now, you tell me
that the real world

is a realm of spectres
and jack-o'lanterns.

In which case...

Have I wasted my
brief span here, Doctor?

Has it all been for nothing?

Please, miss, you shouldn't
be helping, it's not right.

Don't be daft.
Sneed works you to death.

How much do you get paid?

Eight pound a year, miss.

-How much?
-I know!

I would've been
happy with six.

So did you even
go to school, or what?

Of course I did,
what do you think I am, an urchin?

I went every Sunday,
nice and proper.

What, once a week?

We did sums and everything.

To be honest,
I hated every second.

Me, too!

Don't tell anyone...

But one week I didn't go
and I ran down the heath, all on my own.

I did plenty of that. I used to go down the
shops with my mate Shareen.

and we used to go
and look at boys.

Well, I don't know
much about that, miss.

Oh, come on,
times haven't changed that much.

-I bet you've done the same.
-I don't think so, miss.

Gwyneth, you can tell me.

I bet you've got
your eye on someone.

I suppose, there is one lad.

The butcher's boy,
he comes by every Tuesday.

Such a lovely smile on him.

I like a nice smile.

Good smile, nice bum.

Well, I have never
heard the like!

(BOTH LAUGHING)

Ask him out. Give him a cup of
tea or something, that's a start.

I swear, it's the
strangest thing, miss.

You've got all the clothes
and the breeding,

but you talk like
some sort of wild thing.

Maybe I am.

Maybe that's a good thing.

You need a bit more
in your life than Mr Sneed.

Oh, now, that's not fair.

He's not so bad, old Sneed.

He was very kind
to me to take me in

because I lost
my mum and dad to the flu when I was 12.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Thank you, miss.
But I'll be with them again, one day.

Sitting with them in paradise.

I shall be so blessed.

They're waiting for me.

Maybe your dad's up there
waiting for you too, miss.

Maybe.

Um, who told you he was dead?

I don't know,
must've been the Doctor.

My father died years back.

You've been thinking about
him lately. More than ever.

Suppose so.

How do you know all this?

Mr Sneed says
I think too much,

I'm all alone down here.

I bet you've got
dozens of servants, haven't you, miss?

No, no servants
where I'm from.

And you've come
such a long way.

What makes you think so?

You're from London.

I've seen London in drawings,
but never like that,

all those people
rushing about.

Half-naked, for shame.

And the noise...

And the metal boxes
racing past...

And the birds
in the sky... No...

No, they're metal as well.

Metal birds with
people in them.

People are flying.

And you. You've flown so far.
Further than anyone.

The things you've seen.

The darkness.

The big bad wolf.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry, miss.

-It's all right.
-I can't help it.

Ever since
I was a little girl, my mam said I had the sight.

-She told me to hide it.
-But it's getting stronger,

more powerful. Is that right?

All the time, sir.

Every night,

voices in my head.

You grew up
on top of the rift. You're part of it.

You're the key.

I've tried to
make sense of it, sir.

Consulted with
spiritualists,

table-rappers, all sorts.

Well, that should help.
You can show us what to do.

What to do where, sir?

We're going to have a seance.

GWYNETH: This is how
Madam Mortlock

summons those from
the Land of Mists, down in big town.

-Come. We must all join hands.
-I can't take part in this.

Humbug?
Come on. Open mind.

This is precisely the sort of
cheap mummery I strive to unmask.

Seances?

Nothing but luminous
tambourines and a squeeze box

concealed between
the knees. This girl knows nothing.

Now, don't antagonise her.
I love a happy medium.

I can't believe
you just said that.

Come on. We might need you.

Good man.

Now, Gwyneth.
Reach out.

Speak to us.

Are you there?

Spirits, come.

Speak to us
that we may relieve your burden.

(DISTANT DISTORTED VOICES)

Can you hear that?

Nothing can happen,
this is sheer folly.

Look at her.

I see them!

I feel them!

(GHOSTLY WHISPERS)

What's it saying?

It can't get through the rift.

Gwyneth, it's not
controlling you, you're controlling it.

-Now look deep. Allow them through.
-I can't.

Yes, you can. Just believe it.
I have faith in you, Gwyneth.

Make the link.

Yes!

Great God!

Spirits from the other side!

The other side
of the universe.

GELTH: Pity us!

Pity the Gelth!

There is so little time.
Help us!

-What do you want us to do?
-The rift.

Take the girl to the rift.
Make the bridge.

What for?

We are so very few.
The last of our kind.

-We face extinction!
-Why, what happened?

Once we had
a physical form, like you.

But then the War came.

-War? What war?
-The Time War.

The whole universe convulsed.

The Time War raged.

Invisible to smaller species
but devastating to higher forms.

Our bodies wasted away.

We're trapped
in this gaseous state.

So that's why you need
the corpses.

We want to stand tall.

To feel the sunlight.
To live again.

We need a physical form
and your dead are abandoned.

They go to waste.
Give them to us.

-But we can't.
-Why not?

It's not...
I mean, it's not...

Not decent? Not polite?
It could save their lives.

Open the rift.
Let the Gelth through.

We're dying. Help us.
Pity the Gelth!

Gwyneth!

All true.

ROSE: Are you okay?

It's all true.

It's all right.
You just sleep.

But my angels, miss!

They came, didn't they?
They need me.

They do need you, Gwyneth.
You're their only chance of survival.

I've told you,
leave her alone.

She's exhausted
and she's not fighting your battles.

(SIGHS)

Now, drink this.

But what did you say, Doctor?
Explain it again.

-What are they?
-Aliens.

Like, foreigners, you mean?

Pretty foreign, yeah.
From up there.

-Brecon?
-Close.

And they've been
trying to get through from Brecon to Cardiff,

but the road's blocked.

Only a few can get through
and even then they're weak.

They can only test drive
the bodies for so long.

Then they have to revert to
gas and hide in the pipes.

Which is why
they need the girl?

-They're not having her.
-But she can help.

Living on the rift,
she's become part of it.

She can open it up,
make a bridge and let them through.

Incredible.
Ghosts that are not ghosts

but beings from another world,

who can only exist
in our realm by inhabiting cadavers.

Good system. It might work.

You can't let them run around
inside of dead people!

Why not? It's like recycling.

-Seriously though, you can't.
-Seriously though, I can.

But it's just wrong!

Those bodies were
living people.

We should respect them,
even in death.

Do you carry a donor card?

-It's different, that's...
-It is different, yeah.

It's a different morality.
Get used to it. Or go home.

You heard what they said,
time's short.

I can't worry about
a few corpses

when the last of the Gelth
could be dying.

I don't care,
they're not using her.

Don't I get a say, miss?

Well, yes... Look...

You don't understand
what's going on.

You would say that, miss,
because that's very clear inside your head,

that you think I'm stupid.

-That's not fair.
-It's true though.

Things might be
very different where you're from,

but here and now,

I know my own mind,

and the angels need me.

Doctor?
What do I have to do?

You don't have to do anything.

They've been singing to me
since I was a child.

Sent by my mam
on a holy mission, so tell me.

We need to find the rift.

This house is on a weak spot, so there must
be a spot that's weaker than any other.

Mr Sneed, what's the weakest
part of this house?

The place where
most of the ghosts have been seen?

That would be the morgue.

No chance you were going
to say gazebo, is there?

(DOOR OPENING)

DOCTOR: Huh!
Talk about Bleak House.

The thing is, Doctor,
the Gelth don't succeed,

'cause I know they don't.

I know for a fact that
corpses weren't walking around in 1869.

Time's in flux,
changing every second.

Your cosy little world
can be rewritten like that.

Nothing is safe.
Remember that. Nothing.

Doctor, I think
the room is getting colder.

Here they come.

You've come to help!

Praise the Doctor!
Praise him.

Promise you won't hurt her.

Hurry! Please!
So little time. Pity the Gelth!

I'll take you somewhere else
after the transfer.

Somewhere you can build
proper bodies.

This isn't a permanent
solution, all right?

My angels!
I can help them live.

Okay, where's the weak point?

Here, beneath the arch!

Beneath the arch.

You don't have to do this.

My angels.

Establish the bridge.
Reach out to the void. Let us through!

Yes!

I can see you.

I can see you! Come!

-Bridgehead establishing.
-Come to me.

Come to this world.
Poor lost souls.

It has begun!
The bridge is made.

She has given herself
to the Gelth!

SNEED:
Rather a lot of them, eh?

The bridge is open.
We descend.

The Gelth will
come through in force.

DICKENS: You said that
you were few in number!

A few billion!
And all of us in need of corpses!

Now, Gwyneth,
stop this.

Listen to your master!

This has gone far enough.
Stop dabbling, child,

and leave these things
alone, I beg of you.

Mr Sneed, get back!

(GASPING)

I think it's going
a little bit wrong.

I have joined the legions
of the Gelth.

Come, march with us.

Oh, Glory!

We need bodies.
All of you, dead.

The human race, dead.

Gwyneth, stop them!
Send them back, now!

Three more bodies!
Convert them!

Make them vessels
for the Gelth!

Doctor, I can't! I'm sorry.

This new world of yours,
it's too much for me.

I'm so...

Give yourself to glory.

Sacrifice your lives
to the Gelth.

I trusted you.
I pitied you!

We don't want your pity!
We want this world and all its flesh.

Not while I'm alive.

Then live no more.

(HORSE WHINNYING)

(GHOSTLY SCREECHING)

But I can't die.
Tell me I can't.

I haven't even been born yet,
it's impossible for me to die.

Isn't it?

I'm sorry.

Failing! Atmosphere hostile!

Gas!

The gas!

But it's 1869,
how can I die now?

Time isn't a straight line,
it can twist into any shape.

You can be born
in the 20th century and die in the 19th.

And it's all my fault.

I brought you here.

It's not your fault.

-I wanted to come.
-What about me?

I saw the fall of Troy.
World War Five.

I pushed boxes
at the Boston Tea Party.

Now I'm gonna die
in a dungeon,

in Cardiff!

And it's not just dying.

We're gonna become
one of them.

(COUGHING)

We'll go down fighting, yeah?

-Yeah. Yeah.
-Together?

I'm so glad I met you.

Me, too.

Doctor! Doctor!
Turn off the flame, turn up the gas.

Now fill the room!
All of it, now!

-What are you doing?
-Turn it all on!

Flood the place!

Brilliant, gas!

What, so we choke
to death instead?

Am I correct, Doctor?

These creatures are gaseous.

Fill the room with gas,
it'll draw them out of the host.

Suck them into the air
like poison from a wound!

I hope...
Oh, Lord!

I hope that this theory
will be validated soon.

If not immediately.

Plenty more.

(SHRIEKING)

It's working!

Gwyneth, send them back.
They lied, they're not angels!

-Liars?

-Look at me.

If your mother and father could look down
and see this, they'd tell you the same.

They'd give you the strength.
Now send them back!

-Can't breathe.
-Charles, get her out.

I'm not leaving her.
They're too strong.

Remember that world you saw?

Rose's world?
All those people.

None of it will exist unless
you send them back through the rift!

I can't send them back.

But I can hold them.

Hold them in this place.
Hold them here.

Get out.

-You can't!
-Leave this place.

Rose, get out, go now.

I won't leave her while
she's still in danger. Now go!

Come on.
Leave that to me.

This way!
(COUGHING)

I'm sorry.

Thank you.

(CRASHING)

She didn't make it.

I'm sorry.
She closed the rift.

At such a cost.
The poor child.

I did try, Rose,
but Gwyneth was already dead.

She had been for at least
five minutes.

What do you mean?

I think she was dead
from the minute she stood in that arch.

But she can't have,
she spoke to us,

she helped us,
she saved us.

How could she have done that?

There are more things
in Heaven and Earth

than are dreamt of
in your philosophy.

Even for you, Doctor.

She saved the world.

A servant girl.
No one will ever know.

Right then, Charlie boy,
I've just got to go into my, um, shed.

Won't be long.

What are you going to do now?

I shall take the mail-coach
back to London, quite literally post-haste.

This is no time for me
to be on my own.

I shall spend Christmas
with my family and make amends to them.

After all I've learnt tonight,
there can be nothing more vital.

-You've cheered up.
-Exceedingly!

(CHUCKLES) This morning,
I thought I knew everything in the world.

Now I know
I've just started.

All these huge
and wonderful notions, Doctor!

I am inspired,
I must write about them!

Do you think that's wise?

I shall be subtle, at first.

The Mystery Of Edwin Drood
still lacks an ending.

Perhaps the killer
was not the boy's uncle.

Perhaps he was
not of this earth!

"The Mystery Of Edwin Drood
And The Blue Elementals!"

I can spread the word,
tell the truth!

Good luck with it.

Nice to meet you, fantastic.

Bye, then. And thanks.

Oh, my dear!

How modern.

Thank you.
But I don't understand,

in what way
is this goodbye?

-Where are you going?
-You'll see. In the shed.

Upon my soul, Doctor,
it's one riddle after another with you.

But after
all these revelations,

there's one mystery
you still haven't explained.

Answer me this...

Who are you?

Just a friend.
Passing through.

But you have
such knowledge of future times.

I don't wish to impose on you
but I must ask you...

My books, Doctor,
do they last?

Oh, yes.

For how long?

Forever.

Right.

Shed. Come on, Rose.

What? In the box?
Both of you?

Down, boy.
See ya.

Doesn't that change
history, if he writes about blue ghosts?

In a week's time,
it's 1870.

And that's the year
he dies. Sorry.

He'll never get
to tell his story.

Oh, no.
He was so nice.

But in your time,
he was already dead.

We've brought him
back to life

and he's more alive now
than he's ever been. Old Charlie Boy.

Let's give him
one last surprise.

(TARDIS WHOOSHING)

(LAUGHING)

-Merry Christmas, sir.
-Merry Christmas to you!

God bless us.
Every one.

Big Ben destroyed as a UFO
crash lands in Central London.

(SIRENS WAILING)

What is it, then?
Are they invading?

Funny way to invade,
putting the world on red alert.

By God, I'll put this country
under marshal law if I have to.

DOCTOR: Defence plan delta!
Come on. Move! Move!

Clear!

(LOUD SCREAM)