Harriet's like, "Oh by the way, WTF?" The Doctor smiles at her: "I'm the Doctor." Rose agrees. "But what happened to my Doctor? Or is it a title that's just passed on?" Harriet presses, and the Doctor comes near to her. "I'm him, I'm literally him. Same man, new face...Well, new everything." Harriet's not buying it. He gets closer, speaks tenderly: "Harriet Jones. We were trapped in Downing Street, and the one thing that scared you wasn't the aliens, wasn't the war; it was the thought of your mother being on her own." You might call him a thing divine, for nothing natural you ever saw so noble. Harriet sees it: "Oh, my God." He smiles at her, bending sweetly toward her: "Did you win the election?" She grins widely: "Landslide majority!"
Fucking Caliban steps on their shit: "If I might interrupt!" Neither polite nor ginger yourself there, good buddy. The thing about Caliban, and the whole Unkindness, is that he is as disproportioned in his manners as in his shape; I always say that life is too short to look at ugly things, and in science fiction, as in life, only the attractive people in this world mean you anything but ill. Chances are, if your face looks like Visible Lizard Man, you're a dick. This is why I judge books by their covers. The Doctor spins about on Rudeboy McSkeletor and is like, "Sorry, hey." Calls him "big fella." Caliban asks who "exactly" he is, and the Doctor grins at him. Hard: "Well. That's the question." Caliban gets attitude -- Sycoraxes are notoriously impatient with existentialists, due to the Rocking -- and screams his demand: to know who the Doctor is. And the Doctor impersonates his growling, awful voice: "I DON'T KNOW!"
The doctor relaxes; he's manic, still high on God, but also doing his Doctor thing, keeping the Unkindness off-balance. "See, there's the thing. I'm the Doctor, but beyond that, I just don't know. I literally do not know who I am. It's all untested." He starts to walk around, addressing everyone -- remembering Ben and Polly, perhaps. "Am I funny? Am I sarcastic?" He winks at Rose, cheekily. "Sexy?" She smiles, and she does not hide it. "Right old misery? Life and soul? Right-handed? Left-handed? A gambler? A fighter? A coward? A traitor? A liar? A nervous wreck? I mean, judging by the evidence, I've certainly got a gob..." Heh. He notices the button. "...And how'm I gonna react when I see this?" He points up at the button, smiling insanely. "A great big threatening button." He runs up the stairs, laughing. "A Great Big Threatening Button Which Must Not Be Pressed Under Any Circumstances. Am I right?" Caliban follows him up the stairs. "Let me guess, it's some sort of control matrix? Hmm? Hold on, what's feeding it?" He bends down and opens a small door beneath the button; there's blood on a cushion. "And what've we got here? Blood?" He tastes it. "Yeah, definitely. Blood. Human blood. A+. With just a dash of iron." He wiggles his tongue around, still in love with his new teeth, and wipes his finger on the bathrobe. "Ahh, but that means blood control -- blood control! Oh! I haven't seen blood control for years!" He's delighted. "You're controlling all the A-positives!" Caliban begins to get worried. "Which leaves us with a great big stinking problem, because...I really don't know who I am. I don't know when to stop. So if I see a Great Big Threatening Button Which Should Never Ever Be Pressed, then I just wanna do...this." He whacks the button hard; Rose and Harriet scream.