Ladies and gentlemen, I am officially declaring a state of emergency.

I don't know if I'm actually allowed to declare a state of emergency. I'm not really anybody, after all. He could declare a state of emergency. He is a state of emergency. He lands on a planet and it's automatic state of emergency time. So, if you think about it, poor old Earth is already in a state of emergency, and I'm just declaring it. I'm saying it out loud. I'm letting you know.

Let an announcement be made. Let them take it to the corners of every continent so that everybody can know.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Earth, you are in a state of emergency. Sorry about that, just thought I'd let you know. Lots of love, Clara Oswin Oswald.

P.S. Sorry."

Really. I'm extra specially sorry. Because this is, actually, little bit, not much, enough-to-apologize-for-but-not-enough-to-be-punis hed-for, my fault.

I suppose you've heard by now. It's all over Youtube. It's a Facebook sensation. Twitter's gone mad. Tumblr did go mad. Then it went so mad it died. There are news helicopters over us now so I'm assuming everybody's seen it that way.

In case you haven't, it's the Doctor. He's gone a bit…

Well. You know.

He gets this way sometimes. Usually it's when something awful has happened in some distant galaxy. Alien dictators or great wars or big explosions or wicked monsters. That kind of thing. He'll try and help. He'll try and do something about it.

But if he can't, well….

I mean, I'm sure you've seen it but… Oh, God, I think I broke him.

See, he came to get me. Something about Stryz-Gar Nebula and an invasion and…? I don't know. He didn't finish what he was saying. I wasn't at home, see? I was with Angie and Artie, at school. They were having a fundraiser, for Children in Need? All the kids dressed up, selling buns, having little parties. And me and some of the mums and dads were out the front shaking buckets for collection.

But it wasn't going very well.

A lot of people were just walking past. And they were looking at us like… like an annoyance. Like we were standing with our hands out. Like it was selfish. People didn't seem to have time to scrape some change out of their pockets and toss it in the bloody bucket.

Not that I as getting annoyed or anything.

Not that the reason I didn't hear the Tardis when it landed, making that big inny-outy noise that it makes, as though the universe was breathing, was that I was getting a bit annoyed. Don't get me wrong, it's a big noise. You really need to be distracted, if you're going to miss it. It's a huge noise. I think everyone who wasn't me was looking round to see what the noise was.

But it's not because I was….

Oh alright, I was raging. Someone had just dropped their foil-wrapped chewing gum into my bucket.

And as the Doctor crept up from behind, intending to surprise me, I was shouting down the street after this hopeless excuse for a human.

The Doctor wouldn't like me using language like that. He likes humans, he thinks were great and good and generous and charitable and fantastic. Which for the most part we are but there was chewing gum in my bucket! He'd forgive me.

Maybe not for the language I was actually using, and outside a school. But as I said, I was annoyed.

And as I said, he was creeping up on me. If I'd known he was there I might have protected his delicate sensibilities. Then again, maybe not. Chewing gum. Bucket. I might have mentioned that. I'm over it now. Totally over it.

It was green, ladies and gentlemen. But I'm over it.

Then the Doctor was right at my shoulder and I jumped.

"Oh!" I cried. "Sorry." Sorry I hadn't noticed him. Sorry he'd seen me all riled up like that.

And now Sorry to you, people of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, because it was clear that he was not happy. Really, really not happy. He was white, from the roots of his hair to the tips of his fingers, pale with rage, and shaking with it too.

He looked me over, with my Pudsey hairband on and the pawprints painted on my face. "It's Children In Need, today?" His voice. I've never heard him like that. And I've been with him in some dark, dark moments, but never like that. He sounded lethal.

"Yes." It was all I could do to eke out that tiny answer.

"And that is a collection bucket," he said, "for Children In Need?" He was beginning to take the screwdriver out of his pocket.

"Yes," I replied.

"And there is a wad of fresh, still sticky chewing gum, Clara, in your bucket."

He pointed the sonic down the street. I, personally, didn't see anything happen. I'm sure this had nothing to do with the missing manhole cover, or the nasty fall into raw sewage taken by the young man I'd just been shouting at. That's not his style. Not at all.

Then again, neither is what he's doing now.

This is the part that's making the news. You see, after he'd put away the sonic, he dragged me to the Tardis with him. We are now on top of the Tardis. The Tardis herself is on top of the Fourth Plinth at Trafalgar Square.

By some sonic magic, he has turned off all the streetlights but the ones nearest us. On a dark November night, in the middle of London, that's quite a spotlight. He has amplified his voice, not only in the square but over every announcement system in the capital.

May I just take this opportunity to apologize in particular to those trying to find out where that Tube train in front of them is going.

I've been keeping up with the updates and the general theme is disruption. Lots of disruption. Lots of things being disrupted, because all people can hear is the Doctor's voice.

He's making a speech. This is what I started to tell you before. When he can't defeat a monster or stop some cataclysm with his original plan, he starts to make a speech. Surely you've noticed this? Usually it's a play for time, until he has a better idea.

That's why I'm declaring a state of emergency. This one seems different. This time, I think he's talking because this is the plan. To make as many people as possible listen. This time, the speech is the first thing to happen.

But, my God, he's been going four hours now, and no sign of stopping.

Youtube favourites include the minutes twenty-to-twenty-eight (also known as the 'Stuff That Children In Need Can Provide To Community Centres' segment), and minutes one-hundred-and-eight to one-hundred-and-eighteen (the "There Are More Than 63 Million People In This Country, And If Everyone Gave A Penny" segment - I like that one. I think that's a really good point to raise, don't you?)

Actually, he's raising a lot of good points. But I really do think that life in the city should be able to go on, don't you?

I'm trying to help. I'm up here with him – no choice, can't get down – but I think, if I could only show him how well the appeal is doing this year, maybe he'll calm down?

So I used the console. Got in touch with some of his friends about how to do it. And Jenny was able to tell me a very interesting story about last year. Apparently, last year, The Doctor and his wife were locked out of Television Centre when the Children In Need appeal was in dire peril? And a nice girl called Sally on a site called Fanfiction-dot-net (never heard of it, news to me, must have a look round while I'm here…) let him use her account to reach an audience.

And the agreement was that, for every 'favourite' or 'review' or 'follow' (help? Is this right? I'm only repeating what Jenny told me) that this lovely girl will donate one pound to Children In Need on your behalf.

And I think if I could just do that, and try this, and show him that people are good, and that something came of it?

I don't know, I think he might just stop talking.

Please. I'm stuck on top of a Tardis with a raving, well-meaning madman in the middle of Trafalgar Square. Help me.

I mean, help Pudsey and all the kids and all the amazing projects funded by Children In Need, but please, God, please help me, he's giving me a bloody earache and I'm not sure how Angie and Artie got home today. Please. Please help me.

Yours, sincerely,

Clara Oswin Oswald.

[Hey, folks. Sal here. I know I haven't been on site for a while, but this is important to me. Donate without costing yourself a penny. This will run until tomorrow night before I make the donation. C.I.N. is an incredible charity with amazing rewards and projects (and one delightful supporter currently holding London hostage!) Help him, help me, and help Clara before she loses her mind. All my hearts – Sal.]