The Doctor flung the TARDIS door open. “Here we… Oh.”
“What now?” Even after a few short weeks, Donna could tell when something wasn’t quite right.
“This isn’t Ventulix. Or at least I don’t think it is.”
Squeezing alongside the Doctor, Donna stared out at a gloomy stone room, cluttered with old furniture and boxes of junk.
“Are we in someone’s cellar? What the heck are we doing here?”
“No idea.” The Doctor perked up. “But when I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know. Well, the second. Third, if you count the TARDIS.”
“Gee, thanks a lot.”