It opens on Davros, black stage, spots from behind, flanked by Daleks. Opening verse intercut with gentle clips from series. All very moody and serious.
When the beat kicks in, the front of Davros' chair snaps open, as does the front of the Dalek casings; from each Dalek steps a squiddies in spats. Opposing him, emerging from the shadows, are several different regenerations of the Doctor.
There follows a West Side Story style danceoff. Choreography by Stomp.
I didn't say it was funny, I just said it amused me.
 All parts to be played by lookalikes
Ok, this isn't exactly the same; Rory has been researching actual science instead of watching TV, and they do go for one of the options my Doctor dismissed (which is sort of the point of my scene, whimsy over hard SF). But it's thematically similar enough to be really quite vexing.
Also startling, as I've had that scene rattling around in my head for a year or more. What are the odds it would make it into the show like a week after I finally sit down and write it?
Stupid psychic writers.
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I do, in fact, already have some ideas about Terry; who he is, how he came to be, and why he was hurrying after the Doctor in the first place. But I'm suddenly struck with a powerful curiosity about what other people conjure up when they are given very little information about a character. So, tell me about your Terry.
What does Terry look like? How tall is he, what colour is his hair? How does he wear it?
How old is he?
What style of dress does he favour?
Where does he come from?
What does he do of an evening?
What does he do during the day?
If you like, you can tell me how he met the Doctor and what was chasing them. And for bonus points, tell me which Doctor this is (and which TARDIS).
Terry rushed into the box after the Doctor, turning to glance through the door before slamming it firmly shut. He kept his eyes fixed on the door while turning his head slightly to speak to the man he assumed to be just over his shoulder.
"I think we lost them," said Terry. "Now I assume you have something better in mind than hiding in a cupboard because..."
He tailed off. Something wasn't right. The Doctor should be right there, the box was only a few feet across, but there was no sense of a body, no warmth, no pressure, and the air was moving..
He turned around.
The Doctor had already bounded up to the console and was gleefully playing with the controls. As the groan of ancient engines filled the filled the air - the ground, the door, Terry's bones - the Doctor shot him a glance.
"'Salright," he reassured his young friend, turning back to the controls, "We're safe now, we're in flight. You can relax. You can say it."
Terry took a breath.
He lowered an eyebrow and raised a finger.
The Doctor grinned again. "Ye-es?"
"... It's ... a teleport?"
"No, no it's not a teleport," said the Doctor, still grinning.
"It's a gateway, then. A portal interlock to your ... secret lair or ..." Had the Doctor said they were in flight? "Ship?"
"Yes, it's a ship, no it's not a portal." The Doctor's expression was more quizzical now, and he leaned on the console. He'd been expecting a simple exclamation, not an interrogation.
"Okay, the ship exists in another plane - like a hyperspace - and extrudes a physical exit into real space?"
"You really do watch far too much science fiction. Not even close."
"Right. So it's a pocket dimension - a tesseract? At right angles to reality?"
"No, no, no. Getting colder. Sub-zero. Kelvin. And that's not even possible."
"Alright, I give up. What is it?"
"You sure? You'll kick yourself."
"No, yeah. Tell me."
"Alright. What it is, is..." The Doctor beckoned Terry closer, looked theatrically around to make sure none of the other imaginary passengers were listening and lowered his voice. "The way it works is..."
"Yes?" demanded Terry.
"It's bigger ... on the inside."
Not, however, as hilarious as the instructions that came for assembling the ship on its display stand.
I know the range is aimed at kids, but I mean, really.
Why, Osterhagen-on-Ice, of course!
"My entire career has been a Secret Plan to get this job," said Steven Moffat. "I applied before but I got knocked back cos the BBC wanted someone else. Also I was seven. Anyway, I'm glad the BBC has finally seen the light, and it's a huge honour to be following Russell into the best - and the toughest - job in television. I say "toughest" cos Russell's at my window right now, pointing and laughing."
Naturally, being a great writer doesn't necessarily make a good Head Writer (or Script Editor, or whatever the term is these days), either on screen or behind the scenes. But Moffatt has proven capable of guiding an entire series of his own before, and he seems a nice enough chap that I'm confident he'll treat other writers' works with respect (and cheeky enough that he won't be unable to make changes where they're needed).
It did seem pretty inevitable, though, when the first question everyone asked about series 4 was "When's the Moffatt episode?"