"Yes?"
The man scrutinized him, taking in the innocent look of a young English gentleman. His eyes stopped at the celery pinned to the coat.
"I want to see the Doctor."
"Yes, what do you want?" the Doctor replied.
"I don't need a messenger, boy. I want the Doctor."
"Although, I am here to deliver a message," he added.
"Just move away."
Pulling out a gun, he shoved the Doctor aside. The Doctor stepped back, lazily waving his screwdriver. The weapon flew apart.
"I wish people stopped underestimating me," the Doctor sighed.
"Now, what message do you have?" He smiled.