The Master couldn't contain himself any longer; as the Doctor ran straight into the wardrobe without stopping, he erupted in hysterical laughter. It was a bit disappointing that the Doctor didn't try anything else, though the House was providing him with ample opportunity. But he could already feel the knot of tension dissipating, the drums receding just enough in the wake of his mirth for him to return to work.

Unfortunately, his calm wouldn't last long. The next morning the screwdriver was once again repaired, but the Master found himself preoccupied with a panic he couldn't quite name, worse than anything the drums had provided. The House rumbled slightly in disquiet as he made his way to the Doctor with swift strides, determined to quell this one way or the other.