With apologies to Isaac Asimov and WS Gilbert, and also to anybody who doesn't like long poems.

When you're watching a show starring folks you don't know, and can't seem to get into the action,
And as hard as you try, you can't find your bowtie, and thus lose quite a bit of attraction,
There's a remedy known that can reset the tone of your life and can give you perspective,
At one small, easy cost: should you ever get lost, "Find the TARDIS!" will be your objective.
So sit down and relax (grab a bagful of snacks), and the Doctor will set your heart throbbing
With an episode here that will grip you with fear, and then one that will cause violent sobbing.

But quite soon you want more - having gotten through Four, you decide that you'll write your own story;
Merely watching is fun, but when all's said and done, merely watching won't give you much glory.
And quite soon you'll long, too, for that box painted blue, and to meet the cool Time Lord within it.
Well, you won't manage that if your script should fall flat, and so with "Allons-y!", you begin it.

You begin in Earth's past where some aliens cast from their homeworld decided to settle,
And they've drawn some concern from the natives, who've learned that they've purchased a whole lot of metal.
Well, it's hours away - the invasion's today, and Earth's whole population's in danger,
When a little blue box lands nearby and unlocks, and out steps an astonishing stranger.
Though the Doctor's on break, there's a subconscious ache to make sure that his Earth is protected,
And his sonic insists that there's something amiss, as the Doctor's already suspected.

Well, now, something's not right! In your haste and delight, you've forgotten to give it a title!
But that's easily solved with no headache involved - "Blank of Blank"; the specifics aren't vital.
So you're back to the plot, and the Doctor's been caught and is taken by force to a saucer
Which is garish but brown, and is wrecking a town (and, it turns out, inspiring Chaucer).
Though your special effects have some major defects, you are sure it won't cause too much worry,
Since the scene's also sad, and the viewers aren't mad if their watering eyes are all blurry.

Well, there's one final guest who you haven't addressed - the good Doctor's companion, devoted
To exploring through space with both humor and grace (and her stunning good looks have been noted).
You go back and rewrite - she's been captured despite the all the Doctor's attempts to dissuade her
From exploring, but she didn't listen, you see, for she knows that the Doctor will aid her.
He's a very smart man, so he brings forth a plan which will counter their villainy hateful:
With a fight and a speech, he has banished them each off of Earth, and the locals are grateful.
They breathe sighs of relief (though some still deal with grief), but, half seriously and half trolling,
"Doctor Who?", people ask, when he's finished his task, but he's off, and the credits are rolling.

There are typos galore, which you fix by the score, and some marks on the page which you white out in rage, and you edit again with a weakening pen to make sure it's just right, and you've worked through the night so your hair is a mess, as your friends both assess, and you walk in a trance thinking way in advance and you're sure they won't read what you've written: indeed, you're convinced that its fate will be gory.

But your script is complete, typed in pages quite neat, and the audience claps (at your writing, perhaps), for you've made a great Doctor Who story.