Rory was so alone. And he would be for several years. What could he do? He was defending the woman he loved, who was clearly dead (yay) and he was soooooo bored.
The Auton lifted his skirt and peeked under it. "Woah," he proclaimed, "I'm so glad I'm plastic! Are they that big on all of them or am I just special?" He could not resist peeking again. And again. And again. Every single day, he had a long, hard stare at his plastic spoon to surprise himself.
One day, Rory felt as if the Pandorica was calling him. He went up to it, and touched it. "Oh," he moaned with pleasure as he felt the intricate details. This was a plastic's paradise. He touched it again and again, rubbing his spatula against the edges. He wanted more, he needed to do more! Rory stripped off and pushed harder against the metal. The Pandorica began to vibrate excitedly. "OH YES!" He gave one last scream of delight as he looked down to see his...
"WHAT THE HELL?" Yes, Rory, that's what happens when you push a rod of plastic against something hard. Idiot.
