"Do you remember," The Doctor said, pointing at Amy, "every single time I have ever said, 'don't wander off', and that's the very first thing you do? Hmm?" Okay, maybe that wasn't strictly fair, but by and large, that was what his companions did. He would say Don't wander off!, and that would of course be the very first thing they'd do once his back was turned. All of them. From the very beginning until now, nobody ever sat still or remained where they'd been put.
Well. Mostly.
"Look," he said, pointing toward the pizzeria. "The plan is simple. I go off with Gretel, you go off with Sam, and we go figure out what the matter is with the meat." The Doctor honestly hadn't reckoned on townspeople; he'd expected real, interactive people, of the sort he and Amy and Sam and Gretel were. That was who had brought it to his attention in the first place, wasn't it?
He shrugged at Gretel and Sam. "Tell you what," he said, "why don't we hear you two out? No, wait, no, not that." He clicked his fingers and pointed at Amy again. "Go on, Pond. Take Sam and be off. Investigate the meat. Order a slice if you've got to. Gretel, come with me, eh? Just pop round the back and check their store room."
Well. This was far more of a plan than The Doctor had managed in quite some time. Then again, he'd never had to coordinate it in a place quite like this; usually the TARDIS made it much easier to wing it. No TARDIS meant no escape route. No TARDIS also meant normal time progression, which unfortunately was beginning to sound like the sort of affair where you--and perish the thought--planned things.
He wrinkled up his nose. "Amy. Is that a plan? A proper plan? No. No, The Doctor does not do plans. I don't like this place. Making me plan. Come on then, Gretel, round the back. Sam and Amy, off you go. Carry on."