Bring back Peter Cushing, that's what I say, a bit like David Niven was the best Bond, could use Missy's Dark Water to resurrect and restore them both, bring the universe to its original unchanging state, although I'd have to insist on not restoring Maisie Williams, it's just a view. Anyway, in the words of the American TV show Soap 'Confused, you will be'. It's time for musical chairs, or musical Doctors to be fair, as the music stops, the location hops, and your mind follows in despair. Lots of fob watch taunting, seemingly around a house that's good for haunting, all a bit daunting and quite unnecessary. A trick is missed when somebody fails to grab some chocolate for Kavanista during the corner shop trickery. There's some stuff going on down in Chile, Sontaran skulduggery, yet more drudgery. It's all a bit like the climax you get after eating something well past its sell by date, although nothing like as rewarding. The title of the chapter kind of gives it all away, with thousands of middle aged man folk vanquished, looking for alternatives to keep themselves from the websites they usually delete the history from to avoid their wives prying eyes. Change is good, evolution, revolution, development and adaptation - but if it comes across as an AmDram panto with awful CGI then devaluation, detachment and division is all you'll have sown and all you'll be known for, four - and that's generous under the circumstances.