Monsieur Scrúje was resting in his maison, near a fireplace stocked with various near-extinct types of wood from all over the globe, burning. Contrary to what his detractors said, Scrúje was not tight-fisted. Not in the least. He appreciated the good things in life, like being the sole owner of various magnificent works of art only to keep them locked up and not allowing anyone but him to see them. Or buying various species of animals on the brink of extinction only to train his aim by letting them free and hunting them for sport. "Will you give me the TARDIS now?" Scrúje asked himself.