Doctor Who
Doctor Who: The Clockwork Catastrophe
The new Doctor – tall, wiry, dressed in a wildly clashing coat of emerald green and burgundy – bursts out of the TARDIS like a cannonball. His hair is a frazzled mop, his grin is rakish, and his pockets seem to carry more rubbish than the local skip.
“Right!” he shouts to no one in particular. “New teeth, new stomach, new pancreas—bit itchy, that—oh, and… explosions! We’re surrounded by explosions! Lovely! This is definitely not Derby.”
The Crazymad Writer Writes Again 