“Wow! Look at that!” Arny exclaimed, pointing at the painting on the wall.
“A phone booth. English.”
“No, I meant Dr. Who.”
“Who?” Mike asked. “What’s a Doctor have to do with it?”
“Dr. Who!”
“It’s a police call box. 1928ish. Had nothing to do with any Doctor.”
“NO! Dr. Who! The British show!”
“Right. A British Call Box. I don’t think they have them any more. No need really,” Mike shrugged. “Phones and all.”
Arny rolled his eyes. “It’s Tardis, Dr Who’s time machine.”
“The police used them. Not Doctors.”
“For crying out loud!” Arny cried. “Dr. Who. A British TV show! He travels through space and time in a call box named Tardis.”
Mike sighed, shook his head. “You and your funny imagination.”
Arny threw up his hands. “Hopeless!” He walked away.
“Hey,” Mike called, hurrying after him. “Speaking of TV shows….. did you hear about that sci-fi show where some weird Timelord roams the Universe?”
Arny stopped, turned slowly. “No,” he said flatly, “never heard of that one.”
Paused. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”
