See what Clara's double gets up to.

The Ghost, obligingly, skipped ahead.

The future Clara smirked as she looked down at the gorgeous, pale redhead, who was kneeling on the ground with her hands on her head. "Wow, Amy. You've lost all your clothes. Again."

"Give them back!"

"This happens every time. You're not very good at staying dressed, are you?"

"You're doing this to me! You witch!"

"It's not my fault that whenever we meet, you suddenly decide to strip naked. Just one of those weird timey-wimey things. Anyway, I'll give you your clothes back if you get on all fours and do twenty push-ups while singing a song."

"Bugger off!"

"Think fast, Amy. The lesbian Vikings will be here any minute."

"Interesting," present Clara said, thoughtfully. "I'm going to remember that. And when I'm Mistress of the Land of Fiction I'll make sure to add that my double has a strong tendency to be present when beautiful women are stripped naked and embarrassed. She'll appreciate that."

"I can pass that on to your future Mistress self and she'll write it in now, if you want," said the Ghost of Christmas Yet-To-Come.

"Done. Wow, this timey-wimey stuff sure is confusing."

The scene changed. A **** coffle of beautiful women, all stark naked and chained together at their necks, wrists and ankles, was stumbling through a muddy field, spattered with mud up to their thighs. Peasants working in the fields stopped to gawk at the spectacle. A blonde Viking, tall and strong and possibly a lesbian, was spurring them on with a short riding crop. Rose recognised herself at the head of the coffle, followed by the redhead and a black woman with sharp features. Clara blinked.

"Hey," she said. "Why am I in there?" She was bringing up the rear of the **** column, heart-shaped posterior flexing as she trudged through the mud, looking furious and utterly humiliated as the Viking lashed her with the crop. "I didn't write that. Why am I naked? Stop me being naked, now!"

"You wished to be present when beautiful women are stripped naked and embarrassed. You wrote that into reality. You failed to consider that you are, yourself, a beautiful woman."

"Damnit! Change it back."

"I cannot do that," said the Ghost of Christmas Yet-To-Come, "because of timey-wimey. Your double is going to be stripped forever, and it's all your fault."

Present Rose couldn't help but chuckle. "That's how it feels," she said. Clara shot her a venomous stare.

"Fine," she said. "Can we see more of Rose getting humiliated?"

"Of course."