Waiting for inspiration... and perhaps an intervention

"So do you feel like duck for dinner?"

"No."

She rolled her eyes.

"Why not?" She regretted that question the second it slipped out.

The most ear splitting sound imaginable began squawking loudly into her ear - Rubber ducky you're the one, you make bath time so much fun!

Haha the perfect point to intervene and stop the singing!

"Wait! Aren't the words - lot's of fun?"

He glared at her and scrunched up his nose.

"We'll look it up!" He made that face when he had the feeling he was momentarily going to be proven wrong. He hated being proven wrong.

"So?" She asked smiling as she noticed some considerable slumping occurring in the seat at the desk.

"You're no fun." He yelled.

"Well Doctor we've been stuck in this room for twelve hours! Twelve hours ago we got stuck in this room! And do you know what my question is?"

"What?" He asked.

She shook her head, tapped her foot and raised an eyebrow.

"WHY ARE WE STUCK IN THIS ROOM?!"

"I don't know, ask the duck!"

"I cant. It's dead."

"Yes well that's obvious, otherwise he would have protested when you proposed eating him!"

Clara turned to the ominous door. It was just a normal door, but it frightened her for some reason, as if it knew something she didn't. Imagine that. A door, knowing. Maybe it was whatever was behind the door that Clara was afraid of, but without being able to see it properly she had no choice but to pin the uneasy feeling in her chest on the one thing directly before her. The door. So she turned away from it.

"Alright then, what's the plan?"

"Plan?"

"Yes the plan." He took a breath to speak but she cut him off "And if you don't have a plan I suggest you don't tell me because it wont end well for you."

"You know I've decided I don't like the word plan, which word do you prefer strategy or scheme?"

"Plan. Go. Now."

"Well what do we know? We've been locked in a room with a fridge with a duck. And a computer. We've been trapped in here by a bunch of freakishly strong teenagers, and we're somewhere in America."

"Twenty first century America."

"Yes, right, hence the computer."

"Maybe you should just yell out something like 'why are we in here' or 'who am I talking to'?"

"Really Clara, I've been at this game nine hundred years, I have a pretty good idea what to say."

Clara raised her eyebrows at him. Go on then, she thought in her head, show us some nine hundred year old time lord genius.

"HELLO!" He straightened his bow tie. "Why are we in here?! Who am I talking to?!" He yelled at the top of his lungs.

It was at that point the big scary door opened. And all the doctor could think was 'Geronimo!'... and maybe 'Clara is not going to be very happy with me'.