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Stopping for a drink was a bad idea. The Doctor realised this as soon as he twigged who he was talking to. But, to be fair, he wasn't instantly recognisable. It wasn't like JFK stopping to talk to you on his way to the Grassy Knoll.
The Doctor was usually so careful about altering the course of history, but the drunken Irishman who offered to buy him an ale wasn't easily recognizable as the person he was going to become.
That is, the person he was supposed to become in about fifteen minutes... but the man was still going on and on about his father.
And on. And on.
"I ask you, what does the man want from me? I'm a good son. Well...I'm a son. I've hardly got any of the servants in the family way...this year, at least. And, so, if I have not made anything of myself? Surely a gentleman would prefer his son to spend his days hunting and fishing than working for a living? But, my father is not a gentleman, now, is he?"
"Don't you think it's time to be going?" suggested the Doctor. "Really....I think you'll have a much better night if you lay off the drinking now and go out for some air. You might meet someone interesting."
It wasn't that he was in favour of people getting turned into vampires and murdering hundreds of people and then getting a soul and in any way propagating the Barry Mannilow meme. But the idea that he'd radically alter the course of 21st century history by preventing someone from becoming said vampire... well, it gave him a horrified shiver. There would be consequences. Possibly flying, people-eating, reality-mending consequences. Bad.
Liam leaned forward and took a swig from his flagon. "Why do I need to go and meet anyone? Sure and I've met the most interesting person I'm likely to this year. You're an odd one. What manner of dress is that?" He gestured to the Doctor's pinstripe suit.
"It's all the rage in London. In a few hundred years."
"What you blethering about? Fecking English!" Liam's drunk face took on a puzzled expression.
"Never mind. Really. It's not important. But, look!" He got up and pointed out of the window. "There's an incredibly beautiful woman with, if I'm not mistaken, fantastically loose morals, loitering about in that alley. Just waiting to be ravished. There!"
Liam was up and out of his seat and out of the door in less than thirty seconds. The Doctor sighed with relief.
Some people made maintaining the proper fabric of time ridiculously easy.
The Doctor was usually so careful about altering the course of history, but the drunken Irishman who offered to buy him an ale wasn't easily recognizable as the person he was going to become.
That is, the person he was supposed to become in about fifteen minutes... but the man was still going on and on about his father.
And on. And on.
"I ask you, what does the man want from me? I'm a good son. Well...I'm a son. I've hardly got any of the servants in the family way...this year, at least. And, so, if I have not made anything of myself? Surely a gentleman would prefer his son to spend his days hunting and fishing than working for a living? But, my father is not a gentleman, now, is he?"
"Don't you think it's time to be going?" suggested the Doctor. "Really....I think you'll have a much better night if you lay off the drinking now and go out for some air. You might meet someone interesting."
It wasn't that he was in favour of people getting turned into vampires and murdering hundreds of people and then getting a soul and in any way propagating the Barry Mannilow meme. But the idea that he'd radically alter the course of 21st century history by preventing someone from becoming said vampire... well, it gave him a horrified shiver. There would be consequences. Possibly flying, people-eating, reality-mending consequences. Bad.
Liam leaned forward and took a swig from his flagon. "Why do I need to go and meet anyone? Sure and I've met the most interesting person I'm likely to this year. You're an odd one. What manner of dress is that?" He gestured to the Doctor's pinstripe suit.
"It's all the rage in London. In a few hundred years."
"What you blethering about? Fecking English!" Liam's drunk face took on a puzzled expression.
"Never mind. Really. It's not important. But, look!" He got up and pointed out of the window. "There's an incredibly beautiful woman with, if I'm not mistaken, fantastically loose morals, loitering about in that alley. Just waiting to be ravished. There!"
Liam was up and out of his seat and out of the door in less than thirty seconds. The Doctor sighed with relief.
Some people made maintaining the proper fabric of time ridiculously easy.
