The Doctor turned a corner on some random alien planet, and couldn't believe his eyes. "Not again! I've defeated your entire race *twice* already. Where did you come from? Did you fall from another random hole in the fabric of time and space?"

The Dalek in front of him turned this way and that. "I AM NO LON-GER A DA-LEK."

"Yes you are. You've got the gun, and the plunger, and those weird lumpy things. What do those do, anyway? Never could figure that out."

"I HAVE BEEN BANNED FROM MY HOME PLA-NET."

"Oh." The Doctor briefly felt a bit of sympathy for the Dalek. "Why's that then?"

"I WAN-TED TO MAKE CAKE, NOT WAR," the Dalek declared.

"Cake?" the Doctor asked, slightly puzzled. "Proper cake, from dough and possibly with fruit and whipped cream? Edible cake?"

"PRE-CISE-LY. I THOUGHT IT WAS TIME THAT THE DA-LEKS DID SOME-THING MORE PRO-DUC-TIVE THAN EX-TER-MI-NA-TING."

"You've got a point. So why've you still got the gun then?" he asked, pointing at the appendage.

"IT IS NOT A DA-LEK GUN, IT IS AN EGG WHISK. THE TWO LOOK VE-RY SI-MI-LAR."

"I see you've kept the plunger though," the Doctor pointed out.

"IT IS CON-VE-NIENT FOR FI-XING A CLOGGED DRAIN," the Dalek explained. "DOUGH TENDS TO CLOG DRAINS UP, YOU SEE."

The Doctor nodded, although he didn't know the first thing about baking cakes. "You know, I'm a bit in between companions at the moment, and the TARDIS has a kitchen around somewhere. Why don't you join me, and you travel through time and space baking cakes!"

"HOW GOOD ARE YOU AT BAKING CAKES?" the Dalek asked.

"Well, I can make good pancakes," the Doctor offered. "Close enough, right?"

"VERY WELL. TOGETHER WE SHALL MAKE CAKE, NOT WAR."

The Doctor nodded, and the two of them went back to his TARDIS, on their first adventure together to find the kitchen.