“What’s that?” Sarah asked the strange man.

The man, this Doctor from Who-ville, tilted his head in contemplation. “It looks like a strange blue box to me.”

“Well,” she laughed, “that’s obvious.”

The box in question was roughly the height of a telephone booth. It was, also, strange insomuch as how unmemorable it was and blue insomuch as that was the colour it was painted.

As a means of transportation, Sarah thought, this would be inadequate; no wheels or propeller. Barely enough room for one person, she imagined.

“Um…” she chose her words hedgingly, “I’ll pass on the ride. Thanks though — you know — for everything.”

The Doctor from Who-ville rummaged in his overcoat pocket, finally producing a yo-yo. He released it once, catching it precisely on its return. Pleased with this, he replaced it in the pocket and drew forth a screwdriver instead.

“Ah yes,” he proclaimed, jamming the screwdriver into a small keyhole on the strange blue box. With a click, a door popped open. “Sure you don’t want just a peek?”