Ah, how does it go? 'Not with a bang, but with...' wait a moment. This isn't how it goes at all. He isn't dead, regenerating, or even in pain, really, aside from the violent coughing fit to clear his respiratory system (which somehow doesn't yet strike him as odd). He distinctly remembers neither a bang nor a whimper, nor a world to employ either sound upon ending. What he did hear, however, was a hiss. He has yet to notice his own embarrassing condition. Interesting, how one sense triumphs over the rest, depending on what you're reading when you're suddenly teleported out of your own library.

Not that this happens to him often, mind you. Not from the library, anyway.

"Hello!" he finally calls out, quietly and uncertainly. His eyes will get used to this soon enough, he's sure... well, they would if they weren't covered in muck. And then it hits him: he's really rather gooey at the moment, isn't he? And it isn't the less unnerving gooey that feels like it's seeping through one's jumper; it's a rather brazen, invasive and uninvited sort of gooey. He decides immediately that he doesn't like it: inspects himself, and doesn't like it even more

Upon hearing... no, that wasn't quite right, was it? Upon feeling the voice, the Doctor sputters ineffectually, attempting to lock down his mind--until he realises it's something of a recording. Right, that'll natter on a bit, probably. While listening, he uses that time to attempt to transfer the muck away from his eyes. He should've done that first, really. It seems he isn't the only one in this position, and--and... and oh, dear, everyone is nude. Of course he turns his gaze upward, even as he addresses anyone within earshot of a nice, calm, and reassuring indoor voice.

"How d'you do?" he tries. "I'm the Doctor. Anyone injured? Anyone know what this is all about?"