Subtle as a Sledgehammer
Donna: Where the hell do you think you're going? (I was packing my bags)
Me: Oh you know, back on the open road. Nothing but me, you and the rolling country side. The sky's the limit! In fact, with a few modifications...
Donna: I see that. Why are you going?
Me: Well you know, I don't belong here, trapped to one...
Donna: That excuse doesn't wash with me.
Me: But...
Donna: But nothing. I saw you, when we were out there, pining like a puppy.
Me: I do not pine.
Donna: A little scrawny mangy puppy.
Me: Rubbish!
Donna: With one leg, looking for his mummy.
At this point I pretend to ignore her.
Donna: Don't give me that look Doctor. I KNOW you. "I'm always alright." Rubbish. You missed Rose and wanted to go back every day.
Me: Please, enlighten me, why didn't I?
Donna: Stupid Vulcan. Every man is the same I tell you. It doesn't matter if they were born on Mars, or popped out of a hand in a jar. Each and every one has the commitaphobe gene, and you're no different. Oh but you lurve Rose, you can't live without her, but hand you a ball and chain and you go running.
Me: Well if you don't remember, you helped me last time, and I believe your case is already packed and ready to go isn't it?
Donna: Course it is. Unlike some people, I didn't impregnate anyone. Sure, I helped you before, it was good for you to get away, one last final fling, a elongated Stag do or whatever. But now it's time to settle down and LIVE UP TO YOUR RESPONSIBILITIES. You're going to be a dad. Act like one.
Me: But...
Donna: And I'm going to Majorca for two weeks. I'm going to get wasted every night, fall asleep by the pool, get sunburned, and try and bag me a hot barman. Problem with that?
So, that was me told.
Me: Oh you know, back on the open road. Nothing but me, you and the rolling country side. The sky's the limit! In fact, with a few modifications...
Donna: I see that. Why are you going?
Me: Well you know, I don't belong here, trapped to one...
Donna: That excuse doesn't wash with me.
Me: But...
Donna: But nothing. I saw you, when we were out there, pining like a puppy.
Me: I do not pine.
Donna: A little scrawny mangy puppy.
Me: Rubbish!
Donna: With one leg, looking for his mummy.
At this point I pretend to ignore her.
Donna: Don't give me that look Doctor. I KNOW you. "I'm always alright." Rubbish. You missed Rose and wanted to go back every day.
Me: Please, enlighten me, why didn't I?
Donna: Stupid Vulcan. Every man is the same I tell you. It doesn't matter if they were born on Mars, or popped out of a hand in a jar. Each and every one has the commitaphobe gene, and you're no different. Oh but you lurve Rose, you can't live without her, but hand you a ball and chain and you go running.
Me: Well if you don't remember, you helped me last time, and I believe your case is already packed and ready to go isn't it?
Donna: Course it is. Unlike some people, I didn't impregnate anyone. Sure, I helped you before, it was good for you to get away, one last final fling, a elongated Stag do or whatever. But now it's time to settle down and LIVE UP TO YOUR RESPONSIBILITIES. You're going to be a dad. Act like one.
Me: But...
Donna: And I'm going to Majorca for two weeks. I'm going to get wasted every night, fall asleep by the pool, get sunburned, and try and bag me a hot barman. Problem with that?
So, that was me told.