"OH MY GOSH!" the Doctor shrieked from the console room. He was so enthralled by the unbelievably real person in front of him that he never noticed the cloister bell ringing like crazy.
"What is it, Doctor?" Amy said, rushing from her room armed with a frying pan to see what was the problem. "What's that noise?"
Then she noticed the man with the blue hoodie standing in front of the Doctor. He looked rather familiar, only she (like *quite a few other people*) didn't recognize him. Yet. "Oh."
"IT'S YOU!" the Doctor shrieked again. He fainted.
The man looked down at the unconscious Doctor, then at Amy. "Hi," he said, as if nothing special in particular was happening.
"Who are you?" said Amy, puzzled.
"I'm the Doctor."
"Right...but you can't be. That's the Doctor, down there. And besides," she added, "you look just like that singer from- what's that band called again? That five-man band from Oxford, the one that makes all the weird music?"
"Radiohead?" the man suggested. "Yeah, I get that a lot. Not as often as I'd like, but still a lot." He stuck his hands in his pockets.
"Oh, yes!" Amy said. "Them."
"So what should we do with me, I mean, this alternate universe or past me who's apparently a huge fan of theirs?" said the Doctor, nudging his other self with his foot.
"I think we should get him to the medical bay."
"Yeah. That's a good idea."
So they did.
When the Doctor, that is, our universe's Doctor, the one on TV right now in 2010, awoke four minutes later, he found himself in the TARDIS medical bay. Alone. "Amy?" he called, and to his relief, his companion appeared in the doorway. To his delight and utter fandom, the man whom he thought was the lead singer of his favorite band appeared in the doorway beside her, causing him to ignore her altogether. "Can I have your autograph?" the Doctor asked. (He didn't know that this was not his favorite band's frontman, and at this point probably would have been extremely disappointed if he had.)
"Why? I'm one of your biggest fans!"
"Yeah. Right. Even so, no. Why? Because one, I'm not in the mood to sign anything. Two, I'm not actually the person you think I am. Three, your TARDIS' cloister bell is ringing like mad, only you're so thrilled to see me you didn't even notice. Four, with the universe about to end and all, having the autograph in your possession wouldn't matter anyway."
"So you're not...?"
"No. Sorry to burst your bubble," said the alternate universe Doctor, only he didn't sound sorry. "Anyway, you - I'm sorry - we should get to fixing the big mess we're in, what with two universes about to fall into a hole the size of Belgium."
"THE UNIVERSE IS ABOUT TO END?!" cried our Doctor, forgetting in that moment altogether his ridiculous and embarrassing behavior earlier. "Come on, we've got to fix it! We can't let this happen!"
"We certainly can't," agreed the alternate universe Doctor, secretly relieved that his counterpart was apparently back to his normal self.
And the two of them rushed off to the console room, with Amy following behind. "Wait for me!" she said. "What should I do with this frying pan?"