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Robyn pokes her head out the Tardis with the Doctor, finding themselves in a small park across the road from groups of terraced houses "No, Amy, it's definitely not the fifth moon of Cindie Colesta. I think I can see a Ryman's." the Doctor tells Amy. There's a sudden explosion, throwing the Doctor and Robyn to the ground as the Tardis dematerialises "Amy! Amy! Amy! Amy." the Doctor shouts, jumping up. Robyn gets up and grabs the Doctor's hand "Okay, that's not happened before. Right, um. Let's find out where and when we are and go from there." the Doctor tells her, picking her up.
The two of them go to the flat that Amy has directed them to via a note, a opens the door "I love you." he says. "Well, that's good, because I'm your new lodger. Do you know, this is going to be easier than I expected." the Doctor says, taking the pink keys from the man's hand. Robyn holds the Doctor's hand as they talk "But I only put the advert up today. I didn't put my address." the man tells them. "Well, aren't you lucky I came along? More lucky than you know. Less of a young professional, more of an ancient amateur, but frankly I'm an absolute dream." the Doctor tells him. "Hang on a minute, mate. I don't know if I want you staying. And give me back those keys. You can't have those." the man says, taking the pick keys back. "Yes, quite right. Have some rent." the Doctor says, handing the man a paper take-away bag with lots of twenty pound notes in it "That's probably quite a lot, isn't it? Looks like a lot. Is it a lot? I can never tell." he continues, walking inside with Robyn "Don't spend it all on sweets, unless you like sweets. I like sweets. Ooo." he says, turning and giving the man a couple of air kisses about six inches from each cheek "That's how we greet each other nowadays, isn't it? I'm the Doctor. Well, they call me the Doctor. I don't know why. I call me the Doctor, too. Still don't know why. This is Robyn, family friends daughter I'm looking after." he explains. "Craig Owens. The Doctor?" Craig asks. "Yep. Who lives upstairs?" the Doctor asks. "Just some bloke." Craig responds. "What's he look like?" the Doctor asks him. "Normal. He's very quiet." Craig tells him, a crash following "Usually. Sorry, who are you again? Hello? Excuse me?" he continues, following the Doctor and Robyn into the flat.
"Ah. I suppose that's dry rot?" the Doctor asks, motioning to the top corner of the living room. "Or damp. Or mildew." Craig nods. "Or none of the above." the Doctor adds. "I'll get someone to fix it." Craig tells him. "No, I'll fix it. I'm good at fixing rot. Call me the Rotmeister. No, I'm the Doctor, don't call me the Rotmeister. This is the most beautiful parlour I have ever seen. You're obviously a man of impeccable taste. We can stay, Craig, can't we? Say we can." the Doctor smiles. "You haven't even seen the room." Craig tells him. "The room?" the Doctor asks. "Your room." Craig tells him. "Our room? Oh, yes. Our room. Our room. Take us to our room." the Doctor smiles, picking Robyn up as she giggles. "Yeah, this is Mark's old room. He owns the place. Moved out about a month ago. This uncle he'd never even heard of died and left a load of money in the will." Craig explains, taking them to the room. "How very convenient. This'll do just right. In fact. No time to lose. I'll take it." the Doctor tells him, checking the air with his finger "Ah you'll want to see my credentials. There. National Insurance number. NHS number. References." he says, showing a Craig his psychic paper. "Is that a reference from the Archbishop of Canterbury?" Craig asks. "I'm his special favourite. Are you hungry? I'm hungry." the Doctor tells him, heading to the kitchen. "I haven't got anything in." Craig says.
