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The Doctor

“Knock knock.”

“Knock who?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“No, come on. Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Interrupting cow.”

Silence.

A pointed look.

Silence.

“You’re supposed to say ‘interrupting cow who’ so I can–”

“MOO”

“Fine, dammit, you tell one.”

“Knock knock.”

“Who’s–”

“MOO”

“NO!”

“Did you think the cow was just going to leave?”

“This isn’t a hypothetical door-opening scenario with persistent characters! It’s a purely linguistic construct!”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“The Doctor.”

“Doctor Who?”

“Yes.”

Silence.

“Get it?”

“Yyyes?”

“I thought it was funny.”

“I worked that out.”

“And anyway you already took the interrupting–”

“MOO”

The Doctor

All through the hood, the children are whispering: tonight. Tonight is the night!

A pair of dubs, a bag of rubbers, maybe a fifth of Tanqueray–the children will take their special gifts and leave them in the secret spot under the porch. They’ll try not to sleep, and fail; and in the night, the Chronic Fairy will arrive–

And when the children wake and turn their pillows, oh! Dime bags and nickel bags! Spliffs and bricks!

“Thank you, Chronic Fairy!” they’ll shriek in delight.

And the Doctor will smile, and flutter his wings, and whizz away home to the Aftermath.

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