In a thunderous explosion of light the Doctor

it was PeeWee Herman.

"That's my name. Don't wear it out!"

Said the man

and he opened the elevator. "Come again?" I inquired. The man just stepped to the back and stared at the numbers. Was it a warning?

I moved to the opposite corner of the elevator as the doors slid shut.In my peripheral vision I saw sweat dripping down the man's face as the elevator moved swiftly upwards, faster

and faster. The elevator's acceleration was in the order of hundreds of G's, which had the unfortunate effect of reorganizing his internal organs into a dysfunctional mess.

The splintered defenestrated body was all over the 12th floor. The janitor complained. "Not another!", George moaned as he fetched the mop and bucket for the tenth time that day.

These defenestrations usually picked up this time of year and George was no stranger to them. He had been working here for almost 13 years; ever since Vern disappeared. He has seen

more things thrown from windows than he has fingers and toes to count them on. Don't ask him to count on his teeth, though. He lost them in the great sofa incident of 2017.