Wilfred Mott was relaxing at home (a leisurely Sunday, reading the paper - not that his weekdays were any more exciting), when there was a knock on the door. Followed immediately by another. Followed by two more. Four knocks. "All right, I'm coming! I'm coming," he stood up from the new leather couch, took a quick peek outside to see a young lad on the doorstep, and opened up. "Can I help you, son?"
"Yes, hi. 'Ello, there. I'm Jo - uh, Jackson Lake."
The boy had far too much enthusiasm for 8:30 am. Wilfred figured he must be getting paid to act so chipper. "Oh sorry, Mr. Lake. My family and I aren't interesting in buying anything."
But he received a firm head shake in return. "No, I'm not here to -"
"Oh no, I see what this is about. Heard about my family's lottery win, eh?" Wilfred folded his arms in defense. For the past five months, people whom he had known years in the past were phoning the house left and right, pretending to want to catch up with Wilfred for a few minutes, only to not-so-casually slip in their money woes later. Complete strangers appearing in person to "discuss" the lottery win were only slightly less common.
Wilfred took in this Jackson's age and made an educated guess. "I suppose you're one of them drug addicts then, hoping we'll help fund you. Well, here's some helpful advice - stay off that snorting, smoking, injecting - whatever the latest thing is these days. Living in a fantasy, dream world won't help you in the long run, you can trust me on that. Though I've never seen one of you in such fancy dress before…" Most of the neighborhood's young adults - merely kids in Wilfred's eyes - wore branded t-shirts and blue jeans. This one appeared to have raided his great-grandfather's closet, sporting an out-of-date blazer and a red bow tie.
"Actually," the boy spoke in a soothing, friendly tone," I'm just wondering how your family's doing. I'm conducting a…survey. Psychological. For school." He pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket and quickly flashed it at Wilfred's eyesight, "See: certified university student."
Wilfred relaxed. He supposed there was no harm in helping out with an educational project. "The family's just fine, thanks. Only me and my daughter in here."
"Oh," the boy seemed oddly delighted to hear such a mundane answer ."And grandkids, what about grandkids? A granddaughter, perhaps?"
"Yeah, I've got one of those. Why? You're not also hoping for a date are you? No offense, chap, but you don't really look like my Donna's type - too young." Donna had never been - oh, what was that word again he always heard on that rubbish pop culture news show? A cougar? Right, Donna wasn't some superficial cougar.
"Right, of course, yes," the surveyor appeared more than just a tad bit amused, almost like Wilfred had just shared in a splendid private joke. "Not the hair, nor the bow tie; It's my age that would turn off Donna Noble."
"Besides," Wilfred pointed out, "she's married. Happily. Got a daughter of her own, too."
"A daughter?" his entire peculiarly-arranged face lit up. "Wonderful! I'm sure she's a great mum! Sounds like a lucky little family. Well, thank you for your time, Wilfred Mott. Maybe I'll see you again…when I have, erm, another survey assignment." He took a step away.
"Right, bye," Wilfred began to shut the door, "Have a nice –," then something occurred to him. "Wait! How'd ya know my name? And Donna's last?
"Ah. Yes. That." The bloke thought for barely half of a second. "I'm quite smart, me. Working on my PhD in medicine. Who knows, maybe someday I'll even be your doctor. It would be an honor."
Jackson offered up a final smile, and Wilfred calmly closed the door. Although it took a few minutes - when it came, Wilfred's scream demonstrated that Donna wasn't the only family member with extraordinary vocal chords.
Note: Two reviewers now have accused me of "stealing" this from another author. I honestly have no idea what they're talking about, as this was completely written by me. Any resemblance to other works is purely coincidental. A very similar version of this was posted to the tumblr flapperorslapper, which as you may guess - is my own blog. Bananaqaiquiri on Whofic is also me.