Hello,
fellow Whovians. Below you will find our winner of choice for our 2011 Christmas Contest. As we have mentioned, it was a brutal decision for so many writers were
so deserving, as you will see in weeks to come. Pete's script kept Christmas and the missing Eleventh Doctor's Jacket as constants. His nemesis was strong and great fun in a timey-wimey way. All elements worked well together to create a memorable script. Parallels with past episodes may also be made, so sit back and enjoy your adventure with Pete Bottomley's Last Minute Shopping.
Last Minute Shopping
By
Pete Bottomley
1. EXT. TOWN –
NIGHT
As with all magical Christmas tales, we open on a
beautiful deep-blue sky, scattered with grey clouds like some gloomy Tim
Burton-esque patchwork quilt.
It’s Christmas Eve.
And it’s snowing. Iridescent
flakes of crystal white flutter down through the darkness, swirling in graceful
arcs as they’re caught effortlessly by a night breeze.
And
we hold on one, tracing its elegant descent. Down,
down through lower clouds bringing into focus a TOWN CENTRE. Simple,
modern – pinpricks of Christmas
lights breaking through the dull burnt orange of streetlamps. And yet
it looks odd. Almost artificial. Like a nuclear weapons testing site
from the
50s. Over this, soft and measured:
THE DOCTOR
(V/O)
Down there on Earth, this is how
they celebrate Christmas.
The centre is surprisingly deserted, the snow falling not
yet heavy enough to settle. The Pogues’ Fairytale of New York can be heard in
the distance, haunting and wonderful at the same time.
THE DOCTOR (V/O
CONT)
Every year, always the
same. Oh, the lights and decorations get
better and the songs get worse. But
nothing changes... Not really...
And we’re moving with the snowflake, as it’s lifted and
propelled up higher once more, over the lights and shops. It once more joins
its brothers and sisters over the rooftops, but we stay with it as it traces
whispering trails above streets and lanes
THE DOCTOR (V/O
CONT)
Every Christmas. Every year.
They celebrate.
It shifts and dances higher on the breeze, leaving the
greys of the strange, modern town-life behind, stretching fields of green
shaded a night blue falling in its wake and still it keeps rising, defying
gravity, until the molten orange and gold of the night sky becomes darker and
quieter.
THE DOCTOR (V/O
CONT)
But not me...
Up and up it journeys until it’s lost against the
curtain of stars, seeming to become one.
And suddenly the festive sound from below has gone. It’s
serene. And oh-so beautiful. A silent
night.
And now we’re
pulling back, slowly and steadily, and suddenly the scene of stars and deep
night sky ripples, like a finger tracing through water as we’re drawn back further,
moving through the shimmering ripple, back through gleaming glass –
2. INT. QUERCUSIAN
FLIGHT DECK – NIGHT
– revealing that the entire snowy town is in actual fact
within a SNOW GLOBE held out by THE DOCTOR.
THE DOCTOR
....because I’m here!
And we’re sweeping up and out, to expose a colossal,
majestic cathedral of a flight deck that makes up the core of the Quercusian
spaceship. Its walls stretch up
impossibly into a high domed roof that throws a blanket of shadow over the
occupants below.
The scene is rendered even more unfeasible by the simple
fact everything is made of WOOD! Dark, twisted and knotted, what it lacks in
elegance it makes up in size and spectacle.
Pockets of flames are jutted through the many tiers, revealed to be
piles of coal fuelling the juddering roar of the ship’s engines.
And strangely, against everything natural, it looks Christmassy! Like the wooden huts, smells and colours of a
German market, it seems perfectly at home amidst the December season.
Until we see the QUERCUSIAN ELDER. He is HUGE, a twisting, spidering curl of
knotted wood – humanoid but built like a Strider from War of the Worlds he towers and fills the open space of the
control room easily. Burnt-black joints are woven with unpleasant
moss-like manure, and like an Ent, his features are crudely constructed from
the bark of his “skin”, however, unlike an Ent, they are gnarled and cruel.
And then, so, so far below in the bowels of the flight deck,
we CUT-ZOOM back to the Doctor. So small against the looming shadow of the
Elder, but so mighty despite his foppish hair, skew-whiff bow tie and green
coat.
If there was music, it would undoubtedly be I’m The Doctor well into the string
section.
He twirls flamboyantly, taking in the size of the flight
deck, snow globe sketching the air as he animatedly rolls his free hand.
THE DOCTOR
But like Christmas, I’m worth
the wait. Because that’s the point. That
lot down there! They’ve earned that!
Every. Single. One. Including the naughty ones! They’ve earned
their presents. They’ve earned their
turkey, their nut roast, their last-minute Kentucky Fried Chicken. They’ve
earned their Christmas.
And suddenly, the innocent snow globe seems a lot more
threatening than it did. And the Doctor’s so quiet now, the anger simmering
beneath the calm
THE DOCTOR
Tell me what you’ve earned this
year, Your Highness...
And now the QUERCUSIAN ELDER is speaking. And yet not. It’s just a dry, rotting click
of creaking wood and howling wind – like a dozen breezes are blowing through a
dozen dead trees on a winter night.
Thankfully it’s SUBTITLED.
QUERCUSIAN
ELDER
“You tell me, Man Of
Medicine. Tell me how you intend to
bring the great Quercusian Forestry to its roots. I have heard your words and
witnessed your disapproval... but you are just one tiny man. So speak and enlighten me as to what possible
claim you have over the Earth.”
THE DOCTOR
No claim. Here to help – read the badge!
And he’s proudly displaying his Closing Time badge, still pinned to his braces.
THE DOCTOR
(CONT)
And I’m sorry but time’s up ...
because is it me, or is getting a bit chilly in here?
The low creak and snap as the Elder’s strange
bow-like-brow arches, watching as the Doctor, with his free hand, pulls out a
red Santa hat, drawing it over and down his ridiculous fringe.
And suddenly – miraculously! – a beautiful, crystalline
snowflake is forming high above in the liberty of the domed roof. It holds for a minute, before slowly,
delicately, fluttering down.
So simple.
So beautiful.
And yet the Elder is terrified, the clicks and
rattle of wind fast, anxious and frantic.
THE DOCTOR
QUERCUSIAN
ELDER
“What have you done?!”
And the Doctor’s fiercely calm as he pulls out an
impossibly long Fourth Doctor scarf that should never have been able to fit into his narrow coat pocket.
THE DOCTOR
Well, you could say I exposed
your quantum temporal engines to a foreign bionetwork of... ah... self-inducing
ice particles held together within a containment field... Or...
Triumph now as he wraps the scarf around his neck,
holding up the snow globe.
THE DOCTOR
(CONT)
I’ve made it snow inside a
spaceship!
(A wonderful
grin)
Right! Well, I think that’s me
done. Because in about 34 seconds – oh –
?
(Checks his
watch)
32 seconds – your command deck’s
going to become a Winter Wonderland. And
I doubt you want me to be here when that happens. In fact, I doubt you want to be here when that happens. I’d offer you a lift to the nearest nebula,
but to be honest, I don’t think you’ll all fit into my pokey little ship!
And now it’s snowing heavily, thousands of flakes
bearding the Quercusian controls, frosting the uneven flooring, and the Elder
is quivering with unspoken rage, the snow clumping over his spindly arms. But the Doctor’s already talking again:
THE DOCTOR
But don’t worry. Really. Don’t
panic. Because it’s all reversible. As
soon as you hit a neighbouring planet’s atmosphere you’ll defrost. Or your engines will reignite upon
re-entry. Just in time for Christmas.
(Beat)
Next Christmas... Possibly the
year after...
(Beat)
I’m actually not too sure on my
dates to be honest. Maybe worth getting
your coats now. Oh, and by the way –
And suddenly, with frightening speed, he hurls the snow
globe high into the domed room.
THE DOCTOR
(CONT)
– Season’s Greetings!
And like a gunshot, it shatters mid-air and the world is
a blizzard – a tornado of virgin white snow engulfing the Elder and the room as
we –
CUT TO:
3. INT.
CORRIDOR – NIGHT
THE DOCTOR, pounding down a hooked and claustrophobic
looking corridor, snow spattering underfoot in sprays of white, green coat
billowing.
And everything SLOOOOWS DOWN, a classic slow-mo as the
backdrop of fading corridor is broken by falling snow. It’s beautiful, magical
and heroic all at the same time, It’s
Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas playing behind the action.
Winding, tumbling, twisting, the corridor snakes on
endlessly as the Doctor belts down it, until we see...
...the TARDIS. Strong. Ridiculous. It’s cobalt blue sheathed in heavy white. And we follow the Doctor as –
– WHAP!! –
– he stumbles, falls and the Christmas music is stolen
away, the danger real again as he turns to see:
A QUERCUSIAN CREATURE, weak and yet monstrous as its
grotesque head lifts up from the floor of snow, like it’s part of the ship, the
whole ground turning against the Time Lord.
And we now see what he sees, its hooked and clawed
root-like fingers snaked around his ankle –
– and it tugs him back a foot or so, deeper into the wintery
abyss behind.
Snow falls hard against the Doctor, relentless and
unforgiving, making it harder for him to struggle.
And suddenly a dry pop and crack pierces the air, as a
sheen of glass-like ice begins to frost over the root fingers, the deep black-green
becoming sparkling and frozen, until finally the whole finger SHATTERS, ice
fragments splintering into a billion pieces –
– and the Doctor’s free! Scrambling, fighting against
the deluge of snow, he stands and practically hurls himself into the TARDIS
doors, his shivering fingers struggling with the key, until it painstakingly
FINALLY opens and he falls inside.
CUT TO:
4. EXT. SPACE –
NIGHT
The wheezing, groaning VWORP!-VWORP! of the ancient
TARDIS can be heard off screen as we see the QUERCUSIAN SPACESHIP – like a
withered cluster of spiders – slowly freeze over, jagged blades of ice
rupturing up and out like bizarre growths.
A second more, and then silence as the iceberg-like
vessels hangs in space, floating eerily like some strange frozen star...
And then:
THE DOCTOR
(O/S)
It wasn’t a distraction!
CUT TO:
5. INT. TARDIS
– NIGHT
THE DOCTOR, pacing around the rising and falling time
rotor, the long cable from the TARDIS phone struggling to follow (and stretch). He’s in his shirtsleeves now.
THE DOCTOR
(CONT)
I just... ah... happened to be
in that part of the Gamma Quadrant on route.
(Pause as the
caller speaks. Then, slightly indignant)
Well, I happened to fly the
TARDIS into that particular wormhole in the Rainbow Cluster near the Gamma
Quadrant ...
(Another pause,
listening)
...no, you and I both know Jack
didn’t even buy that house, let alone
build it!
He moves around the console, vaguely flipping switches
and twisting dials, listening.
THE DOCTOR
Of course I’m not scared! If I hadn’t ... er... happened to be in the
Gamma Quadrant when that Quercusian Ship left Abstract Space, I would never
have tracked it back to Earth and prevented them from colonising an innocent
planet! Like I said, wasn’t a
distraction. More of ...ah... diversion.
Like a road-closure except with more tree alien thingies. Like a tree alien thingy fell on a road
closure. Really you should be thanking me.
(Listens)
Okay. First – rude.
Second – of course I have it.
He words belie his actions though as he frantically
skitters down the steps towards the coat stand near the doors. Frantically he
scrambles into the tweed jacket hung up, until finally he brandishes a little
too loudly, a small crumpled piece of paper that’s seen better days.
THE DOCTOR
Right here! In my pocket where...
(His
voice cracks, confidence gone as he finishes grudgingly)
“...you moved it so I wouldn’t
forget it after the last time I forgot it”. Shut up!
He bounds up the steps again, hands skimming the
keyboard like an expert Wurlitzer, listening, but not really listening as he
begins to pump a flimsy looking piston.
THE DOCTOR
So this is me. Back on the yellow brick road. Armed with quite possibly the most important document since the
Magna Carta or the eighth Harry Potter book!
Flooring the Atom Accelerator!
With flourish, he spins the strange contraption
THE DOCTOR
(CONT)
Buffering the Referential
Differencer!
Pinballs zing and ding! around a section of the console
at the Doctor’s sharp turn of a dial.
THE DOCTOR
(CONT)
And releasing the Drift
Compensators!
A big triumphant grin as he slams down the final switch.
A pause, the caller saying something and then the Doctor’s INSTANTLY knocking
the switch back off again.
THE DOCTOR (Caught
out)
That’s what I said!
Leaning across and twisting a chunky looking device
THE DOCTOR
(CONT)
Releasing the Automatic Drift
Control! Came out as Drift Compensators.
That, or it’s a bad line. Whichever one seems more plausible... aaaaand
– !
And the TARDIS lurches into gear, the time rotor
breathing into life as the wheezing engines murmur powerfully.
VWORP!-VWORP!-WHUMP!!
And they’ve landed.
And all that can be heard is the strange ethereal melodies of the
TARDIS.
And now the Doctor’s quiet as he rests against the
controls, suddenly looking all 900-odd years, the weight of the universe
bearing down on him.
THE DOCTOR
Just remember I’m doing this
you. For all of you. But trust me, I’ve been on board ruined Dalek
saucers, been surrounded by quantum-locked assassins and even been in a car
with Pond at the wheel...
Big breath, ready but never fully ready.
THE DOCTOR
(CONT)
There’s nothing left in this
universe that fazes me.
He slowly places the phone down onto the receiver with a
dulcet click, and strides down towards the double doors. Shouldering into his
jacket he takes one final look at the list, before tucking it into his inside
pocket.
A second big breath, the Doctor turns his head back
towards the impassive time rotor, and in a quiet voice, addresses the TARDIS:
THE DOCTOR
Do you think she believed me,
old girl?
Silence.
THE DOCTOR
(CONT)
No. Me neither.
And he pulls open the TARDIS door, stepping straight out
into:
6. EXT.
SUPERMARKET CAR PARK – NIGHT 1900
An everyday supermarket car park.
Big – not quite the scale of Quercusian ship – but the
rain-slicked lots stretch well into the night. Stadium-esque floodlights
illuminate hundreds of parked cars, trolley bays and shoppers wrapped up tight
against the cold.
And as we rise up over the car park we see the
supermarket itself – sprawling, modern, huge flamboyant festive-red letters
spelling out J. Smith’s (Love a
fanboy reference!).
And for once, the TARDIS is dwarfed by the sheer ordinariness
of it all. Even stationed miraculously
in a car space, the Salvation Army Brass Band playing pay no heed, the passing
shoppers chatting amongst themselves ignorant to it...
...it’s as if the Chameleon Circuit is actually
functioning!
And we’re back on THE DOCTOR at the TARDIS door, his
face a mixture of trepidation and childlike giddiness.
THE DOCTOR
Geronimo ho ho...
And we crash into:
OPENING
CREDITS!
7. EXT. SUPERMARKET
CAR PARK – NIGHT 1901
We track low and fast to a pair of steel toe-capped
leather boots as they purposefully break through mushed brown snow. Panning up, we see the owner is BILL, 59,
grizzled and set in his ways – the kind of man who’d look more at home in the
bowels of a Navy ship.
His luminous jacket however, reveals the J. Smith’s insignia; he is actually an
employee – or more specifically, a trolley attendant.
As we sweep along with him, in the b/g we can see THE
DOCTOR pulling the TARDIS door shut. He turns, and catches BILL, all smiles and
arms.
THE DOCTOR
Yes, yes. I know. Impossible!
Bonkers! And just the teensiest, tiniest bit exciting! But don’t worry, it’s
supposed to do that. Just think of it as a Christmas Miracle!
BILL
You still can’t park there, lad.
Parent and child only.
On the Doctor, startled – he wasn’t expecting that!
THE DOCTOR
(Sheepish)
Oh. Right. Okay. I’ll ... ah...
re-park it.
CUT TO:
8. INT.
SUPERMARKET FOYER – NIGHT 1910
A bustling, chaotic beehive of shoppers. Everywhere is draped in a plethora of festive
decor – tinsel entwined around self-checkouts, deep-green garlands dangling in
majestic crescents and every staff member has been (forcibly or otherwise)
garbed in Santa and elf hats or for the more unfortunate, reindeer antlers.
I Believe In
Father Christmas by Greg Lake pipes through, only adding
to the Winter Wonderland effect as THE DOCTOR – a little lost, out of his
depth, but LOVING IT – ponders through a makeshift corridor of Christmas Trees
– some flecked in star-like lights, gold and red baubles speckling the pine
needles.
A padded cheaply-suited SANTA is cheerily ringing a bell
– very New York city.
On the Doctor – delighted!
THE DOCTOR
Geoff!!
He takes the Santa’s hand (still holding the bell) and pumps
it excitedly, bell gonging loudly.
THE DOCTOR
(CONT)
Good work! I almost thought it
was him! Although, I think he backcombs the ol’ beard these days! But oh, I love a cosplayer!
He leans in, the Santa bewildered, but going with it.
THE DOCTOR
(WHISPERING)
People actually think he’s a
Time Lord y’know when in actual fact we
stole the technology from him!
The Doctor taps
his nose knowingly, and snaps his fingers into a friendly Fonz-style point and
turns away – Santa left a little dazed, before finding his composure, shouting
after him:
SANTA
Wasn’t funny the FIRST time!
And now we sweep up to really showcase the size and
scale of J. Smith’s; labyrinth-like
aisles and displays seeming to stretch into eternity. People EVERYWHERE, barging, bustling,
jostling for last minute bargains.
The Doctor, taking everything in.
THE DOCTOR
Christmas shopping ... here I
come.
JUMP CUT TO:
9. INT. FRUIT
‘N’ VEG AISLE – NIGHT 1915
On KELLI, dirty-blonde, young and a bit a gobby – all
attitude and chewing gum. She looks less than impressed with her elf hat, and
even less than impressed with THE DOCTOR.
KELLI
You wan’ what?
THE DOCTOR
(Reading from the list)
Mistletoe apparently.
KELLI
We don’t sell mistletoe I’m ‘fraid
sir.
THE DOCTOR.
Ah. Not to worry
(reads the
namebadge)
“Kelli with an ‘i’ except it’s
not, it’s a smiley face”, I’ll just make do with asparagus. Still green and
will probably taste the same if we’re all honest.
Kelli – confused, just opens and closes her mouth as the
Doctor air-kisses her.
CUT TO:
SLAM! CU on a bunch of asparaguses being thrown into a
trolley.
JUMP CUT TO:
10. INT. BAKERY
COUNTER – NIGHT 1920
BABS, a jolly, rosy-cheeked woman, all smiles and good
cheer with an inviting West Country accent only adding to her charm. Behind a
fresh bakery counter.
BABS (Taken
aback)
A Christmas Pudding, my love?
THE DOCTOR – flamboyant of gestures and loud of voice as
he waves the crumpled list.
THE DOCTOR
The biggest you can grow, Babs –
can I call you Babs? Say I can, Babs!
BABS
Er yeah...? And you’ll probably find
them in the cake aisle, dearie.
THE DOCTOR
Ahhh. The cake aisle! Makes
sense! I remember walking through the cake aisle earlier and thinking “I bet if
Babs can’t grow me a Christmas Pud, it’ll be in the cake aisle. The aisle of cakes.”
Confident smile and he spins on his heel. A pause. Then
spins back.
THE DOCTOR
Where is the cake aisle?
CUT TO:
SLAM! CU on a ridiculously extra large Christmas Pudding
being thrown into the trolley.
JUMP CUT TO:
11. INT.
BISCUIT AISLE – NIGHT 1930
PAUL, gawky, bespectacled teen, his face a mask of
disbelief.
PAUL
You want how many packs?
THE DOCTOR
Twelve hundred and fifty six. No
fifty-five. Don’t want to be greedy.
PAUL
I think we only have the forty.
THE DOCTOR
Close enough. And besides, they
weren’t even on the list anyway! But shhh!
He places a finger to his lips.
Paul, dazed, mimics the action.
CUT TO:
SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! CU of forty packs of Jammie Dodgers landing in the trolley
JUMP CUT TO:
12. INT. CEREAL
AISLE – 1935
THE DOCTOR, in his element as he guides the trolley down
a surprisingly empty aisle.
CU as he ticks off a few more items on the list with a
small pen and tucks both into his lapel pocket.
THE DOCTOR
Just a few more items left.
Easy. Christmas Shopping – like quantum physics except less quantum-y.
He reaches the end of the aisle, and is about to round
the corner –
– when ANOTHER DOCTOR slams into him, frantic, out of
breath and JACKETLESS!! The same Doctor, just minus the jacket and trolley – a
FUTURE DOCTOR.
THE FUTURE DOCTOR
Forty-two!
On the current Doctor, shocked but taking it in.
THE DOCTOR
Meaning of life? Number of goes
it took me to crack sky-diving and metaphysical verse...
(Beat)
...at the same time?
THE FUTURE
DOCTOR
Forty-two aisles! All filled
with...
His hand dances, as he finishes, almost disapprovingly
THE FUTURE
DOCTOR (CONT)
...shoppers!
THE DOCTOR
You noticed too?
THE FUTURE
DOCTOR
But I found you! Listen, not
much time, but I need your jacket!
THE DOCTOR
You need my what?
THE FUTURE
DOCTOR
Your jacket... My jacket... Our jacket,
technically. Don’t worry, you’ll get it
back. You are getting it back.
The Doctor, a little confused, but removing his jacket
nevertheless. It doesn’t make sense...
THE FUTURE
DOCTOR
Wibbley-wobbley... Christmas
timey-wimey...
Ah, NOW it makes sense – the Doctor hands the Future
Doctor the tweed jacket. And the Future Doctor’s running again, back the way he
came, out of sight.
On the Doctor – smiling, like it’s an added treat.
THE DOCTOR
Ah. Always nice to catch up with
yourself.
Then suddenly it hits him. He smacks down his shirt and
jeans pockets, empty – THE LIST! The list he JUST put in the jacket pocket not
thirty seconds ago! Pushing the trolley aside he tears after the Future Doctor,
tumbling out into the centre aisle.
Sweep left – nothing.
Sweep back right – nothing.
He’s gone.
On the Doctor again, his world collapsing before his
very eyes.
THE DOCTOR
Okaaaay. Little bit trickier now
than quantum physics.
CUT TO:
13. INT. HOME
SECTION – NIGHT 1937
PAULA, 60s, short of both height and patience, arms
folded as she listens to THE DOCTOR, who’s less giddy, more twitchy.
THE DOCTOR
Stuffing! Like in cushions
except in a turkey... which is sort of like a cushion, but more with the flesh
and skin... ah... thing.
PAULA
Are you trying to be funny?
THE DOCTOR
Not intentionally.
PAULA
(Venomously polite)
Aisle twenty-five, sir. And next
time you want to play silly beggars, choose any night except Christmas Eve.
On the Doctor, shamed.
CUT TO:
CU – A bag of stuffing landing in the trolley.
JUMP CUT TO:
14. INT. FROZEN
FOOD AISLE – NIGHT 1945
ALAN, balding with a thick moustache and an irritated
expression.
ALAN
Tell me you’re joking?
THE DOCTOR
Not intentionally.
ALAN
Are you seriously asking me on tonight of ALL nights, whether we have any
turkeys left?
THE DOCTOR
If I say yes, will you shout
more but eventually strike lucky and find one
ALAN
Yes.
THE DOCTOR (Nervously)
Then... yes...?
Leans into air kiss him, but thinks better of it as
Alan’s eyebrow arches dangerously.
THE DOCTOR
(CONT)
Possibly not.
CUT TO:
CU of a slightly battered looking frozen turkey – small,
but still a turkey, a MASSIVE reduced sticker slapped across it – slamming into
the trolley.
JUMP CUT TO:
15. INT. JAM
& SPREADS AISLE – NIGHT 2005
We join THE DOCTOR and KIRSTY, late forties, weary, like
she’s been at this for hours:
KIRSTY
So, “like chestnuts, but
different to chestnuts, but definitely not hazel, walnut, brazil, peanut or
‘Peladon Nut’?”
THE DOCTOR
Yes! Twenty-second time’s a
charm. Althoooough... maybe it was
chestnuts on the list?
On Kirsty, folding her lips to contain the seething anger.
CUT TO:
CU – a bag of chestnuts thrown into the trolley.
JUMP CUT TO:
16. INT.
TOILETRY AISLE – NIGHT 2020
THE DOCTOR, slightly exhausted, but his trolley’s full
as he pushes it along, head lolling not really looking as he –
- slams headlong into THE FUTURE DOCTOR, still in the
tweed jacket, even MORE frantic and out of breath than before.
THE FUTURE
DOCTOR
Last time, I promise! Finished
the shopping?
THE DOCTOR
Yes. Everything on the list I can remember except
baubles. Turns out you can
mispronounce it according to the very angry lady in the Christmas aisle.
THE FUTURE
DOCTOR
Good! Well not good! But good
about the rest of the shopping. Glad
it’s done... as I’m going to have to steal it.
THE DOCTOR
You’re going to have to what
now?
THE FUTURE
DOCTOR
Steal it. Or technically re-steal it but from your perspective,
steal it.
THE DOCTOR (NOT
IMPRESSED)
Tell me you’re joking...
THE FUTURE
DOCTOR
Not intentionally.
And then he’s moving, fast, faster than the current
Doctor, seizing the trolley and dashing off with it, wheels skidding.
And the Doctor’s chasing after himself, but not fast
enough, as the Future Doctor nips down an aisle and is gone!
Hold on the Doctor, pursed lips, quietly fuming.
JUMP CUT TO:
17. INT. FRUIT
‘N’ VEG AISLE – NIGHT 2035
KELLI, still unimpressed, handing THE DOCTOR a bunch of asparagus.
CUT TO:
CU – SLAM! Asparagus back in the trolley!
JUMP CUT TO:
18. INT. CAKE
AISLE – NIGHT 2040
We find THE DOCTOR from behind two shelves, leaning down,
disappointment etched over his features as he removes...
CUT TO:
CU – the SMALLEST Christmas Pudding ever being
carelessly dropped into the trolley.
JUMP CUT TO:
19. INT.
BISCUIT AISLE – NIGHT 2045
PAUL, astonished, incredulous.
PAUL
How can you lose forty Jammie Dodgers?!
CUT TO:
CU – a solitary, lonely pack landing in the trolley.
CUT TO:
CU – a bag of stuffing hits the trolley interior
JUMP CUT TO:
20. INT. FROZEN
FOOD AISLE – NIGHT 2048
ALAN, his face boiling with rage as THE DOCTOR sadly
trudges away, a turkey clearly not available on tonight of all nights.
JUMP CUT TO:
21. INT. JAM
& SPREADS AISLE – NIGHT 2050
And KIRSTY’S walking very fast away from THE DOCTOR,
trying to pretend she’s not seen him... such is her anxiety, she actually
breaks into a run.
CUT TO:
CU – About twenty packs of different nuts are thrown
into the trolley.
STAR WARS-STYLE
CUT TO:
22. INT.
CHECK-OUTS – NIGHT 2055
THE DOCTOR, so tired, so broken, but relieved as he
queues behind a plump lady at a check-out as she pays.
Without enthusiasm or triumph, the Doctor moves his
trolley forward to meet RACHEL, young, brunette and polite.
RACHEL
Hello again! Looks like you
managed to get all your last minute shopping, sir! And not a moment too soon –
we close early tonight. Worse time to forget your wallet.
And she laughs, expecting him to join in.
And we FAST ZOOM on the Doctor, in horror!!
THE DOCTOR
My jacket...
RACHEL
You’ve lost your jacket? Where did you last have it?
And then it clicks. Like a light-switch, something just
clicks inside the Doctor’s head. And now he’s gabbling, hands gyrating, no
longer listening.
THE DOCTOR
Yes, yes, yes!! Of course!
Wibbley-wobbley...
(To Rachel)
“Rachel with an ‘e’ and an ‘l’”,
I’ll be right back. Literally back but
I’ll also be back! Here I mean!
RACHEL
Okay, sir. I’ll keep hold of your shopping– but you’ll
have to be quick, you’ve not got a lot of time.
The Doctor – big smile.
THE DOCTOR
Rule 408 - time is not the boss
of me.
CUT TO:
23. INT. TARDIS
– NIGHT
THE DOCTOR, dancing, spinning, shifting around the
console, his fingers skimming keyboards, cranking leavers and twisting
dials. The room tipping and lurching due
to the ferocity of the flight.
And WHOOMPH! And the Doctor’s moving, the time rotor
barely stable, pacing down the steps and through the doors into:
24. EXT.
SUPERMARKET CAR PARK – NIGHT 1920
The car park. But earlier, and THE DOCTOR’S running,
legs bandy, arms flailing in his haste –
- and suddenly grizzled, set in his ways BILL is there,
hand raised.
BILL
Whoa, whoa sonny – you can’t
park there! Parent and child only.
The Doctor, so helpless, lips tightly shut, a finger
hovering, ready to unleash the Oncoming Storm, before, finally...
THE DOCTOR
Fine! I’ll move it!
CUT TO:
25. INT. TARDIS
– NIGHT 1926
WHOOMPH!
TARDIS landed once more, THE DOCTOR bounding through the
doors.
CUT TO:
26. INT.
SUPERMARKET FOYER – NIGHT 1927
We track with THE DOCTOR as he runs through into the
maelstrom of SHOPPERS, allowing just enough time as he passes the
cheaply-dressed SANTA again to shout:
THE DOCTOR
Still love the cosplay!!
SANTA (NOT
GETTING IT)
What...?
But the Doctor’s gone as ...
FAST CUT TO:
27. INT. FRUIT
& VEG AISLE – NIGHT 1930
THE DOCTOR, spinning frantically on his back heel, eyes
darting – nothing.
FAST CUT TO:
28. INT. FROZN
FOD AISE – NIGHT 1933
Again, THE DOCTOR, lost and desperate and he runs to a
stop, head twisting and twitching anxiously.
Nothing. No one.
FAST CUT TO:
29. INT. CENTRE
AISLE – NIGHT 1934
And he’s moving swiftly through the shoppers, head snapping
left and right.
Still nothing.
And now THE DOCTOR’S really worried, his face falling,
defeated until in the distance but close, and oh-so recognisable...
THE PAST DOCTOR
(O/S)
Just a few more items left.
Easy. Christmas Shopping – like quantum physics except less quantum-y.
And the current Doctor spins and runs in the direction
of the voice, rounding the corner of –
30. INT. CEREAL
AISLE – NIGHT 1935
– and SLAMS into THE DOCTOR from Sc 12, the earlier
Doctor, the now PAST DOCTOR, wearing the JACKET, pushing a half-filled trolley
as from before!!
THE DOCTOR
Forty-two!
On the Past Doctor, shocked but taking it in.
THE PAST DOCTOR
Meaning of life? Number of goes
it took me to crack sky-diving and metaphysical verse...
(Beat)
...at the same time?
THE DOCTOR
Forty-two aisles! All filled with...
His hand dances, as he finishes, disapprovingly
THE DOCTOR
(CONT)
...shoppers!
THE PAST DOCTOR
You noticed too?
THE DOCTOR
But I found you! Listen, not
much time, but I need your jacket!
THE PAST DOCTOR
You need my what?
THE DOCTOR
Your jacket... My jacket... Our jacket,
technically. Don’t worry, you’ll get it
back. You are getting it back.
And now that line makes SO much more sense!
But the Past Doctor is still so confused, but removes
his jacket nevertheless. It doesn’t make sense to him...
THE DOCTOR
Wibbley-wobbley... Christmas
timey-wimey...
Ah, and NOW it makes sense – the Past Doctor hands the
Doctor the tweed jacket. And the Doctor’s running again, back the way he came, belting
down the CENTRE AISLE, pulling the jacket on hurriedly as we
CUT TO:
31. INT. TARDIS
– NIGHT
The engines creak and wheeze and groan as THE DOCTOR,
now fully in the tweed jacket, pilots the TARDIS like a pro – heading back the
way he left, euphoric, triumphant as he smashes down the handbrake, practically
diving down the steps, through the door and out into...
32. EXT.
SUPERMARKET CAR PARK – NIGHT 2132
...an empty car park.
And all the energy and pace from the earlier scenes
evaporates.
The overhead floodlights are lit, but not as bright...
the J. Smith’s frontage muted, dark
and closed, boarded up for the holidays.
He’s too late. Time wins. Christmas Eve is over.
On the Doctor, all his hope melted away, the TARDIS
lights ghostlike behind him.
RACHEL (O/S)
Sorry, sir.
He turns at her voice, and she’s still so polite even
when going home for the night, wrapped in her navy duffle-coat and cosy beanie
hat.
RACHEL (CONT)
I told my supervisor you’d be
right back but we always have to cash up early on Christmas Eve.
The Doctor offers a small smile of thanks.
RACHEL
At least you got your first lot
of shopping though. Is your family quite big?
THE DOCTOR
Well, I wouldn’t say –
And suddenly he’s looking at her, really looking at her, the rising chords of I Am The Doctor trickling in under as he realises, understands...
THE DOCTOR
My first lot of shopping...?
RACHEL
Yeah – earlier tonight, the
first time you came through my till. I thought you’d forgotten something the
second time.
And he’s smiling now and calmly, so confidently, so cool,
heading back to the TARDIS, Rachel calling after him.
RACHEL
Where
are you going?
THE DOCTOR
I don’t have my shopping...
And at the TARDIS door, he turns to face her, eyes dark
and wonderful.
THE DOCTOR
(CONT)
...but I know a man who does.
And the TARDIS door snaps shut.
CUT TO:
33. EXT.
SUPERMARKET CAR PARK – NIGHT 2019
And instantly opens – the same car park, but once again,
earlier in the evening.
And again, as ever, THE DOCTOR’S pounding in the
direction of the main entrance, and already he can see BILL, unimpressed,
preparing once again to make him move –
- but reunited with his jacket means the Doctor’s
reunited with everything as he flashes the PYSCHIC PAPER as he speeds past.
On Bill, stunned, not quite sure how to process what
he’s just read.
BILL
I thought you’d be fatter! And
older!
CUT TO:
34. INT.
TOILETRY AISLE – NIGHT 2020
THE DOCTOR, weaving and dodging through browsing people,
skims around the entrance to the toiletry aisle –
- to slam headlong into THE DOCTOR from Sc 16, who’s
once again designated now as THE PAST DOCTOR.
THE DOCTOR
Last time, I promise! Finished
the shopping?
THE PAST DOCTOR
Yes. Everything on the list I can remember except
baubles. Turns out you can
mispronounce it according to the very angry lady in the Christmas aisle.
THE DOCTOR
Good! Well not good! But good
about the rest of the shopping. Glad
it’s done... as I’m going to have to steal it.
THE PAST DOCTOR
You’re going to have to what
now?
THE DOCTOR
Steal it. Or technically re-steal it but from your perspective,
steal it.
THE PAST DOCTOR
(NOT IMPRESSED)
Tell me you’re joking...
THE DOCTOR
Not intentionally.
And then he’s moving, fast, faster than the Past Doctor,
seizing the trolley and dashing off with it, wheels skidding.
But he knows he can win.
He knows how the story ends as he flies around the corner, leaving the
Past Doctor far behind, exuberant as the checkouts sweep up gloriously into
view.
CUT TO:
35. INT.
CHECK-OUTS – NIGHT 2025
Beep!
RACHEL scans and packs the final item in THE DOCTOR’S
shopping.
She keys in a few onscreen butons, before turning to face
him.
RACHEL
Okay, and if you’d just like to enter
your pin number, sir.
The Doctor clicks open the sonic screwdriver, as
whirbles it against the chip-n-pin machine.
Rachel, confused, but not questioning it.
And then the Doctor’s enters his four digits... followed
by another four... two more... another one... and followed by a final one.
Rachel, still confused, hands him his receipt.
RACHEL
Did you find everything you were
looking for, sir?
And the Doctor stops mid-stride, turning back to her,
THE DOCTOR
Yes, I think so. But if I have forgotten anything... I’m sure
it’ll come back to me.
And he’s gone.
And we’re sweeping majestically up over the rows of
checkouts, bringing into focus the perpetual Christmas shoppers mulling through
the aisles as we
FADE TO:
36. EXT. STREET
- NIGHT
It’s snowing – like in the opening scene, but real,
shuddering flakes spinning over and over in their haste to reach the deserted
square, jewelled with an iron fenced park, swings and slides swathed in heavy
white.
And we should recognise it, long before the veil of
tumbling snow is caught in an ancient breeze, the flakes curling and coiling,
half-hovering, half-landing as the TARDIS melts into existence.
Silence.
And then the door cracks open, THE DOCTOR, back in his
green coat now, steps out into the crisp snow, two bags of shopping dangling
from his hands.
Somehow he manages to close the door, before looking
back and up, as we see:
THE PONDS’ HOUSE. The same sky-blue one from The God Complex. And the warm glow that
resonates from inside casts the Doctor’s features into soft relief as the front
door opens...
...revealing just AMY.
A second moment of silence, larger than the space that separates
them, neither knowing quite what to say. Then,
AMY
You’re late.
The Doctor nods, quiet,
THE DOCTOR
I know.
AMY
You’re lucky my daughter knows
how to use a phone.
THE DOCTOR
You’re lucky she doesn’t reverse
the charges.
AMY
I
know.
And now she’s smiling.
AMY (CONT)
Merry Christmas, Raggedy Man.
And now he’s smiling.
THE DOCTOR
Merry Christmas, Pond.
And now we crane up and away from the scene, the snow
falling, as the Doctor and Amy make their way into the Ponds’ house for
Christmas, the distant conversation audible enough that we hear that it is in
fact actually Christmas Day.
But the remainder is lost as we soar higher and higher,
the pinpricks of white snow against black slowly shifting and forming into a
serene universe that silently watches over the Earth on Christmas Night.
