It's a late, foggy night out on the
old town of London. A lone beat
cop in uniform walks around,
carrying a flashlight through the thick
haze. The light pauses
upon a sign -- "I.M. Foreman Scrap
Merchant, Totter's Lane" --
and moves on. |
| . |
The sign is upon a gate, which slowly
opens.....revealing something
that's very odd to find in a
scrapyard of this era. A late 1950's police
telephone box, medium
blue in color and rather beat-up looking. |
| . |
Another strange thing about this
box......There's no visible lines of
any kind running to it,
yet....it's humming. |
| . |
|
An Unearthly
Child |
| . |
| The camera zooms in on the door of the
Police Box: |
| . |
|
POLICE
TELEPHONE |
| . |
|
FREE |
|
FOR USE OF |
|
PUBLIC |
| . |
|
ADVICE AND
ASSISTANCE |
|
OBTAINABLE
IMMEDIATELY |
| . |
|
OFFICERS AND
CARS |
|
RESPOND TO |
|
URGENT CALLS |
| . |
|
PULL TO OPEN |
| . |
| FADE TO: |
| . |
| . | |
It's a late, foggy night out
on the old town of London. A lone beat
cop in uniform walks
around, carrying a flashlight through the thick
haze. The light
pauses upon a sign -- "I.M. Foreman Scrap
Merchant, Totter's
Lane" -- and moves on. |
| . |
The sign is upon a gate,
which slowly opens.....revealing something
that's very odd to
find in a scrapyard of this era. A late 1950's police
telephone
box, medium blue in color and rather beat-up looking. |
| . |
Another strange thing about
this box......There's no visible lines of
any kind running to it,
yet....it's humming. |
| . |
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| FADE TO: |
| . |
| Continue | |