"When you fight barbarians, what must they think of you?" River asks, which is sort of a rude way of explaining herself. "Where do they think you come from?" The commander, in a way that has sort of begged the question, draws his sword: "A place more deadly and more powerful and more impatient than their tiny minds can imagine." Quite a damn coincidence that he would phrase it exactly that way, but it's such a thrilling moment that I don't really mind. River squarenesses a nearby tea hutch into nothingness to prove that she is just that same thing to him: "Your world has visitors. You're all barbarians now." She explains that her gun could be called "the work of the Gods," if you're stupid, but that she knows as a soldier he can't really believe in the Gods anymore -- which is also a stupid thing to say, but whatever, he's in it now. "There is, however, a man. And tonight he's going to need your help." And suddenly, there is a very narrow fellow with a pointy nose and a distinct lack of comedic ability standing there, ready to volunteer despite not actually existing in the timespace continuum.
So what's this got to do with the TARDIS? The TARDIS was exploding, is that going to happen? Good questions, but the Doctor has no time for that. He's too busy extending the forcefield technology inside the Pandorica in order to cover the whole of Stonehenge, which will get them another hour. As he says, "There are fruitflies on Hoppledom-6 that live for twenty minutes, and they don't even mate for life." Oh yeah? Speaking of mating for life -- and how it confers the gift of subjective reality on little girls, even strippers -- what about this engagement ring I got out of your pocket last week?
The Doctor gets very wriggly at that point, due to Rory-related sadness, and will only describe the ring as a reminder of somebody he lost. She won't give it back to him; she feels a feeling when she touches it (maybe she really could have it all!) and he tries to get her to Red Rover herself back to us: "People fall out of the world sometimes, but they always leave traces. Little things we can't quite account for. Faces in photographs, luggage, half eaten meals... Rings... Nothing is ever forgotten, not completely. And if something can be remembered, it can come back." Very pretty speech, wonderfully delivered, and a perfect center to the set-piece that our one million concepts are whirling around this week.