"Run!" shouted the Doctor, dashing out the
door.
I grabbed a blanket and ran, the TARDIS still wooshing and materialising behind us.
The
postman leaned over the red cylindrical post box, shift eyes casting
nervously around. A ticking filled the air. He unlocked the box and
BOOM! The little door flew open in an explosion of red and white! The
vortex of TARDIS wind
sent hundreds of envelopes swirling like giant snowflakes in a
blizzard! The man, overwhelmed, flailed in the maelstrom, beating off
excitable Christmas cards.
The
Doctor dashed towards the box, gesturing to the man, and simultaneously
pointing his sonic screwdriver at the post box with a flashing whirring
whine.
I ran to the postman, throwing
a blanket over us both for protection.
A loud CRACK filled the air. In the darkness, the cards settled softly, heavy on top of the blanket.
We
peeked out from under the blanket.
Snow drifts of envelopes littered the pavement. The Doctor stood smugly
triumphant, reading measurements on his screwdriver, a couple tiny
envelopes still clinging to his jacket. He brushed them off absently as
he switched off the sonic device.
"The
glue of a thousand Christmas cards was being absorbed to fuel a
thermonano device which would have wiped out all the fairy lights in
North London. I've neutralised the device, reglued the envelopes and
reassured all of the fairies."
The postman looked around with despair. "How will I get these delivered on time?!"
The Doctor lifts an empty mail bag with a grin and starts stuffing envelopes inside.
--
From
the door of the TARDIS, the Doctor and I wave to the postman and a
handful of glowing fairies. They drive away with full mail bags. The
Doctor closes the Policebox door and the TARDIS flashes, whooshes, and
dematerialises in the winter afternoon sun.
Unnoticed, a lone envelope flutters underneath a car in the TARDIS's breeze.
(PS I suspect it was the Silurians, determined to destroy a beloved human celebration.)
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