Well, Vincent van Gogh is not doing so great. He's rolling around in bed screaming his ass off, like you do, but at least he's got a doctor and a judgy old bird-breasted landlady around this time. They're mostly worried about A) his crazy and B) the neighbors, but then she spots one of his paintings -- "even worse than his usual rubbish" -- and wonders what it could be. Vincent is not available for comment, because he's too busy screaming and screaming.

I guess this is because he is a time-traveler? Because they did so well not falling into the oracle/madness trap with him before. In any case, I like that he's flipping out not because of the usual Mean Reds but in fact because he loves the Doctor and Amy and the TARDIS, as we will see. And anyway, it's nice to see him. When I heard about the guest-stars, good guys and otherwise, I got very worried about how this was going to go down -- Daleks v. Cybermen is still a raw little bruise for a lot of us -- but in fact this whole string of time bits is rushed through pretty nicely.

A bunch of years later, in Churchill's bunker, there are phone calls: It's that robot man who remembered how to Love and became a Real Boy instead of a Robot, and who now has a black glove meant I guess to imply that his left hand is very sophisticated robot technology. Churchill chomps on a cigar and twiddles his bowtie and harrumphs and once again makes himself a Churchill cartoon, additionally asking dumb questions without answers which the robot man can then answer:

They randomly just turned up -- since of course it didn't exist until that last scene, which is a cool thing about time travel stories that gets quite a workout here -- a genuine van Gogh ("behind the wall in an attic in France," which for some reason is hilarious to me, like of course, that's where you find most things) and then these same "they" brought it to Churchill because "obviously" it's a message. From who to whom? From van Gogh, to the Doctor, via Churchill. "You're not supposed to understand it, Prime Minister," says the robot man. "You're supposed to deliver it."

Churchill calls the TARDIS to tell him about the painting, but she reroutes the call to Dr. (Not Professor, note) Song. She's in a Stormcage cell in 5145, which puts her ahead of the last time we saw her -- which we know, because the Pandorica is about to open -- and when the poor young guard answers the phone she stops writing in her TARDIS notebook long enough to get really scared for him. For her husband, who danced at their wedding.

"Give me that. Seriously, just give it to me. I'm entitled to phone calls." She and Churchill iron out the details of how the TARDIS rerouted the call, and how it won't be long until the connection breaks, so then Churchill quickly tells her about this mysterious painting working its way through the entire season of the show. Immediately, she snogs the guy and puts him into crazytown, so when the other guys arrive he's pointing a gun at nothing and yelling how she'll never trick him with her hallucinogenic lipstick. It's fairly hilarious -- she's best when she's cheeky and funny, less so when being emptily fatale -- as is the punchline: A stick-figure of her, big mass of curly hair, one stick arm waving, a speech bubble: "Bye!"