Blame Amy Pond!

Left: Type 40 - Kaput!



















Two Gallifreyan TARDIS designers in overalls hold hot mugs of tea and scratch their noses as they discuss the latest model.

"So, what's the problem then?"

"Well, it's the Type 40."

"Oh, they aren't still moaning about the chameleon circuit are they? I said I'd get around to it."

"No, it's not that, it's the other thing."

"What other thing?"

"Y'know, the kaaaaaaaaboooooooom thing."

"Oh that. That'll never happen"

"But it might and if it does, well then the Universe..."

"Listen here now! You tell them we've got a lot of pre-orders for this model and we stand to make a fortune. If they're going to get all health and safety on this we're looking at a pretty heavy loss of revenue."

"But if it does, y'know, go kaaaaaaaaboooooooom we're looking at a crippling lawsuit."

"Listen, if it does go kaaaaaaaaboooooooom there will be no one around to sue. None of us will have existed so we won't be here to care. And another thing, even if someone does manage to survive being swept out of space/time reality, we can always just transfer liability or whatever they call it."

"Transfer liability?"

"Yeah, blame someone else. The consumer."

"The consumer?"

"Yeah, like that seven year old Scottish urchin you met on the space time visualiser."

"Ahh, no, not the cute wee one that cuts happy faces into apples!"

"Yeah. The one we sold the prototype to and now she uses it as a house."

"But that's mean."

"Ah, don't worry about her. She grows up to be a right loony anyway. Gets her boyfriend killed a few times and all. She's an accident waiting to happen. We'll blame her. We'll say she spilled some fish custard down the Eye of Harmony or something and we'll be off the hook, if indeed there is still a hook in existence which there won't be."

Archivist: Garr