This chapter is all about David, and how he was kidnapped to Wyoming by a crazy fan.
And yes, I am slow.
Moffat's radio beeped.
"Talk," He said, and waited for someone to say something.
Suddenly, he heard David's breathless shouting. "They're after me, Steven! They're after me and Spool!"
"Calm down, David! Who's after you?" Moffat said, trying to calm down the actor.
"The fans! The fanboys and fangirls! There are so many, so many, and they all have hungry eyes!"
Spool screamed metallically in the background, "YOU WILL NEV-ER TAKE ME ALIIIIIIIVE!"
"Play dead!" Moffat cried.
"What?!" David cried back.
"Play dead and they'll lose interest!" the writer replied.
Davies interjected, "That only works for bears! If the fans think he's dead, they'll take his head to a taxidermist and mount it on their collective, evil fan-wall! Climb a tree, David!"
"What?" David seemed on the verge of tears. "I'm in a hotel! There are no trees!"
Moffat said the next thing he thought of. "Try to seem as big as you can! Turn around, open your jacket, wave your arms and growl at them!"
"Does that work for fans?" David asked, skeptical.
Moffat didn't know. "Yes, every time. Try it. And stay on the line!"
"ALIIIIIIIIVE!" Spool cried in the background.
Moffat and Davies could hear the fans shouting in the background now, a mish-mosh of teenage nonsense about autographs and having David's child.
Both writers heard a fierce roaring that must have been David's, and Spool's roar once the Dalek decided to follow suit. Then, all they heard was the sound of a stampede, disembodied screaming, and the sound of tearing flesh (actually, it was probably clothes, but Davies like to fancy it was tearing flesh) before the line went dead.
"Note to self," Moffat muttered. "Fans and mountain lions are not synonymous."
When David awoke, he was dressed in nothing but his boxers. He was tied to a wooden chair. A single light bulb dimly lighted the room. The concrete walls were devoid of furniture, but a large amount of what looked like discarded house junk littered the room.
He looked up as the door screeched open, casting light on the stairs. He caught the faint aroma of baking cookies before the door slammed shut.
A person in a Darth Vader mask came menacingly down the concrete steps, brandishing a realistic-looking phaser.
"Hello, Doctor," He said, through the Darth Vader voice changer. "You may be wondering where you are."
"Your mother's basement?" David guessed confidently.
The person staggered back in surprise, then reached up and pushed a button on his mask. Darth Vader said, "I am your father."
The person seemed surprised that he'd pressed the wrong button, but went along with it. "Yes, Doctor, I am your father! And you may know where you are, but you shall never escape!"
David decided not to tell him that he'd already untied his hands from behind the chair.
Suddenly, Darth Vader approached him and pressed a phaser to his head. "Now, Doctor," he hissed. "You need to do something for me."
David swallowed. "What?"
The actor could nearly feel the fan's eyes as they glared at him through the mask."Say, 'Don't Blink'."
Tennant paused, then said, "Don't...blink?"
"No!" Darth Vader roared. "Say it like you mean it!"
This was all very weird, David thought. But this person had a weapon to his head.
He sang, in a catchy jazz tune, "Don't bli-i-ink! Yeah, baby, do not bli-i-ink."
The person pressed a button. Darth Vader said, "The force is strong in this one."
He continued, "You may not cooperate now, Doctor, but you will give in to my demands!" He laughed evilly and went to go back upstairs, but suddenly stopped and turned around.
"By the way, my mom's baking cookies, do you want one?" He asked.
"Sure, I love biscuits," David said.
Vader nodded. "Okay, I'll bring you down one. Is chocolate chip okay?"
"Yeah, fine," David replied.
Vader laughed evilly again and went back up the stairs.
David, alone again, glanced around the room. He spotted the corner of his windbreaker poking out from under a box. He glanced around to make sure no one was coming, and then got out of the chair and lunged for it.
He had considerable trouble getting the windbreaker out from under the box. He tugged on it harder and harder until he finally dislodged the entire box from its position. What he saw then made his blood run cold.
There was an entire shrine there, hidden behind the boxes, dedicated to him. Candle stubs, obviously well-used, were positioned around the inside of an alcove lined with pictures and quotes. There was a huge picture of him in front of his flat pasted on one wall. David didn't remember it being taken.
His clothes were carefully folded on a pedestal in the centre of the alcove. His jeans, his t-shirt, his windbreaker, and even his shoes and socks were all neatly laid out in a pattern. His wallet had been taken apart, and all his cards and cash had been taped to various boxes.
Shivering at the creepiness of this, David quickly got dressed, located his credit cards and driver's license, and bolted for the stairs. He ran up the concrete steps as fast as he could, only to run into Darth Vader as he came down the stairs with a plate of cookies.
Not thinking, David grabbed a biscuit and fled, going for the door of the house. When he came outside, he stopped abruptly and went back inside.
"Hey," He said to Darth Vader, who was still standing at the top of the stairs. "Where am I?"
"Wyoming," Darth Vader said coolly.
David blinked. "Wyoming?" then, it sunk in. "Wyoming?! How did I get to Wyoming?!"
"The genius of fans knows no bounds," Darth Vader said, and laughed.
"Okay," David said sternly, taking a step towards the fan. "You need to buy me a plane ticket back to London."
"No." the fan sassed. "You're not the boss of me."
"I think I am!" The actor cried.
"Since when? I locked you in my basement, not the other way around." The fan challenged.
"One," David said, holding up a finger, "I don't have a basement, I have a tool shed. Two: why would I want you in my tool shed?"
"Because I loooooove you." Darth Vader replied, and took a step towards him, arms outstretched as if to hug him. "And you looooooove me."
David's mouth opened and shut a few times, before he took a step away from the fan and choked, "I think I'll be going now."
The fan was suddenly furious. "NO!" he cried, and lunged for David. "NEVER LEAVE ME!"
That was the final straw. Forsaking the rest of the cookies, he turned tail and ran. Darth Vader was hot on his tail the whole time, shouting at him. He fled through what he supposed was supposed to be a city, but was really more like a nonsensical collection of small buildings in the middle of a plain. None of the locals seemed to care that he was being pursued by a maniac in a Darth Vader costume.
He bolted past a Taco Bell and ran for the hills. The exhausted Darth Vader fell further and further behind until David found himself alone in the middle of a field, surrounded by tall grass and crickets. There was no one in sight, the town was gone, and the only living creature he could see was an antelope about twenty feet away that was staring incredulously at him.
"If I were a Wyoming airport," he thought, "Where would I hide?"