The Doctor's improvised fuse paper

A torn scrap of grease-stained notepaper, torn from the kitchen table. The Doctor crimps it into a tight fuse cord, threading it through the mattress cover's gas valve. Litefoot nearly drops it as he hesitates—the paper feels fragile and temporary in their desperate plan. When The Doctor ignites the end, the flame races up the paper's fibers, creating a visible fuse the companions can track behind the upturned table. The acrid scent of burning paper mixes with gunpowder in the confined space, a sensory betrayal of their own hasty tactics. Its fragile construction belies its narrative weight: the first spark of real resistance against Greel's predatory immortality. The girls seek shelter behind the Doctor's back, their focus on the flame rather than the paper itself, though they know it will burn out too soon. The moment Greel reaches for the doorknob, the Doctor's fuse detonates town gas in a violent explosion, the paper's fibers contributing to the concussive violence that blocks their enemy's advance.