Back downstairs, Eddie gets right up in Tommy's grill as Tommy's mother Rita watches, upset. "All the warnings I've given you, and every time -- every time! -- you disobey me!" Tommy protests that they can't just lock her away, but that's rather imprecise: they're not locking her away, they're taking her off-camera. Totally different. "Excuse me, sunshine; I am talking!" Eddie screams. Who calls their teenage son "sunshine"? What else is off-screen? "And you can forget that college nonsense. You're going to come and work alongside me, get your hands dirty for once!" Oh. Dang. From upstairs there's another bang; Rita despairs that Gran'll never stop. Bang. Bang. Eddie turns tenderly to Rita, a new image over his twisted face, and takes her shoulders in his hands: "There there, Rita, my sweet. Business as usual. Now...let's get these up all over the house!" He gestures toward all the Union flags in the living room. "In honor of her Majesty!" And won't that be fun? Won't everyone see we're normal, without a monster in the house? One upstairs and another down? "Eddie, what if she's dying?" asks Rita fearfully. Not possible, if the monster doesn't exist. Fucking Eddie: "I AM TALKING!" he screams. Declares his intent, lets you know what he's up to. Here's the story of Eddie on the screen before you: now he is talking. Now he is silent. The television talks in the background, Eddie once more calms himself and tells us the story of Eddie: "That's better. A little bit of hush." We can all go to sleep again, in the story of Eddie. Things are quiet; a little bit of hush, a nowhere man standing in the middle of mother, son and grandmother, outnumbered and outmanned, unless he can speak loudly enough. And then the doorbell rings.
Eddie opens the door to the Doctor and Rose, grinning identically and cheesily and even more twee than usual: "Hiiiiii!" they chorus. Just psychotic, they look. Tommy's ears pick right the hell up. Eddie stares at them, and the Doctor takes his stock. "Let's see then, judging by the look of you...family man, nice house, decent wage, fought in the war.... Therefore, I represent Queen and Country!" He holds up the slightly psychic paper with a flourish; the banal image papered over the divine reality. "Just doing a little check of Her Majesty's forthcoming subjects for the great day. Don't mind if I come in nah didn't think you did thank you," he clips out in one long breath, and barges into the house. Rose pushes past. They stand in the living room, and the Doctor congratulates Rita. Eddie tells another story. "Now then Rita, I can handle this -- this gentleman's a proper representative!" The Doctor winks at terrified Rita; Rose easily settles in on the arm of a chair. "Don't mind the wife, she rattles on a bit," says Eddie, thinking that he's in a certain kind of story. He's wrong: "Well, maybe she should rattle on a bit more," says the Doctor. Tommy's jaw and the jaw of his father hit their floor, but the Doctor goes on talking. "I'm not convinced you're doing your patriotic duty," he says, glancing around at the neglected flags, "Why are they not flying?" Eddie, wrongfooted and nervous, outmanned and outnumbered, stammers. "There we are, Rita! I told you, get them up! Queen and Country!" The Doctor is unimpressed and moves toward Eddie. Rita apologizes, Eddie rages; the Doctor tells him to chill, Eddie rages at his poor wife a bit more.