Who stands tall (or at least disproportionately out of scale) when the Dickens Christmas Village in the living room is overrun by invaders from another planet? Why, our dashing Doctor Who, of course!Last year, it was All Silent on the Porcelain Dickensian London Landmarks. But this year, Daleks have developed a fleet of evil green minions....
Okay, so they LOOK like Christmas bottle brush trees. But what better way to infiltrate and conquer a sleeping city during the holidays than to disguise your crazed robot machines as docile holiday firs?
As a space ship hovers above Big Ben, casting inordinate glare over Doctor Who-- which looks strikingly like an over-exposed camera flash but really isn't at all in the least, move along please-- the Doctor prepares his battle plan...
He's hoping to keep the potential peril under wraps from the general populace as long as possible. Though he suspects even bustling, absorbed, energetically-shopping Londoners might eventually notice the crashed flying saucer on the Tower Bridge...
Remarkable how advanced alien technology resembles two styrofoam dinner plates glued together, isn't it?"What do you think, Rose?" begins the Doctor. "How long before they start to get suspicious that it's going to be yet another year the world nearly ends on Christmas?"
"Two, three hours tops," Rose suggests, peering thoughtfully at the scene below. "Think I have enough time to pick up some tea for my mum at Harrods? I'm not quite done shopping."
"Focus, Rose. Focus."
The TARDIS-- which is not, in any way, a DVD storage box my friend Scoobie made for me, even though it is completely filled with awesome-- waits by, ready to leap into action at the Doctor's command.
Will everyone at St. Martin-in-the-Fields cathedral be exterminated before they can finish their brass rubbings and tea in the crypt?...Will the alien villaness Cassandra turn the Dalek pine trees against the Daleks for her own nefarious purposes... Or at least for a really freshly pine-scented space ship?...
Will Rose be the last human left in London, and have to take over the duties as Queen and do all of that bored waving?
And the biggest question of all...How long will it take my dad to realize that the standard Christmas Dickens village has been wholly invaded by alien lifeforms this year?
Stay tuned, Friends of Cabbages! And happy holidays!
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