Scene: The Dalek Invasion of the Cheese Shop
(A blinding flash of light. The Dalek fleet materialises inside a quaint, wood-panelled cheese shop. A small bell jingles above the door. Mr. Wensleydale, the shopkeeper, looks up, mildly surprised but otherwise unfazed.)
Dalek Commander: "WE HAVE ARRIVED. PREPARE FOR TOTAL EXTERMINATION OF ALL ORGANIC LIFE FORMS. GALAXY WILL FALL. DALEK SUPREMACY IS INEVITABLE!"
Mr. Wensleydale: "Oh, hello there! Would you like to purchase some cheese?"
Dalek Commander: "...CHEESE?"
Dalek 2: (scanning surroundings) "THIS LOCATION DOES NOT MATCH DESIGNATED TARGET: ANDROMEDA. EXPLAIN!"
Mr. Wensleydale: "Ah, yes, well, this is indeed a cheese shop. Finest in the district. May I interest you in a lovely bit of Stilton?"
Dalek Commander: "WE DO NOT REQUIRE CHEESE. WE REQUIRE SUBJUGATION OF THE GALAXY!"
Mr. Wensleydale: "Ah. Well, I’m afraid we’re fresh out of subjugation at the moment. Would you care for some Red Leicester instead?"
Dalek 2: "EXPLAIN FAILURE TO STOCK ADEQUATE SUBJUGATION!"
Mr. Wensleydale: "Oh, it’s a nightmare, sir. Ever since the galactic supply chains collapsed, it’s been impossible to get a proper empire to subjugate. But we do have a lovely bit of Camembert."
Dalek Commander: (fuming) "WE DO NOT DESIRE CAMEMBERT! WE DESIRE DOMINANCE! TOTAL UNIVERSAL DOMINANCE!"
Mr. Wensleydale: "Ah, well, in that case, might I suggest a nice mature cheddar? It has a rather dominating flavour profile."
Dalek 2: (laser begins to glow menacingly) "EX-TER-MIN-ATE—"
Mr. Wensleydale: "—Ah-ah-ah! If you exterminate me, you’ll never know whether we have any Gruyère left in the back."
Dalek Commander: (lowering weapon slightly) "YOU ARE STALLING."
Mr. Wensleydale: "No, no, just trying to be helpful. Now, would you care for some gorgonzola?"
Dalek 2: (sputtering) "ERROR! ERROR! THERE IS NO LOGIC IN THIS SCENARIO! WE CANNOT PROCESS!"
Dalek Commander: "FLEET COMMAND! RETREAT! THIS DIMENSION IS TOO BRITISH! WE REQUIRE IMMEDIATE EXTRACTION!"
(A swirling vortex opens, and the Daleks vanish in a panic, leaving behind only a faint scent of burned circuits and mild frustration. Mr. Wensleydale calmly wipes the counter and turns to his next customer.)
Mr. Wensleydale: "Now then, what can I get you?"
(The customer looks up. It’s a Cyberman.)
Cyberman: "DO YOU HAVE... STILTON?"
(Cue credits.)