‘Please, you’ve got to listen to me,’ I shouted, hammering on the door. ‘Doctor Browning! Open the door!’ It opened a crack – just enough for an eye and a shock of white hair to appear.
‘You’re crazy,’ the Doctor whispered. ‘There’s no such thing as time travel.’
‘You’ve got to believe me, Doctor,’ I pleaded. ‘I’m from the future. My name is Martin McFoo. You sent me here and now I’m stuck. You built a time machine out of a Lamborghini using uranium to generate six point one terrawatts of energy.’
‘Six point one terrawatts?’ yelled the Doctor. ‘That’s impossible!’
‘You did it, Doctor. You sent me in the car at ninety-nine miles per hour and I came back in time and now I’m probably going to sleep with my own mother. It’s kind of disturbing if you think about it.’
‘Great Skeet!’ exclaimed the Doctor.
‘Listen, please,’ I said. ‘I need to go back. You’ve got to send me back. I have to... RETURN TO THE PRESENT!’