As my vision went hazy, I glimpsed a black-clad blur heading my way. A limber hero somersaulted over the TARDIS console and raised a pistol. He fired, tearing the Cyberman away from me with a few dull thuds.

I stood, rubbing my throat, and saw a familiar smirk.

"Looks like I saved your neck," said the man.

"My god," I coughed, "that's a horrible pun. Who's writes that rubbish?" Then I recognized his smug, yet gentlemanly glare. It was none other than James Bond 007 in the guise of Roger Moore!

But the man was wrinkly, pooch-bellied and couldn't be under 70. I pleaded for his secret; How could a man of his years remain so energetic and limber? He told me it was some secret and powerful potion called Viagra. I shall have to investigate this miracle concoction!

I also tried to get him to admit that he was a TimeLord. He simply winked and entered his Aston Martin, which wheezed and disappeared.