I think the press office at the BBC might be on suicide watch ... the big premiere of episode 1 is in a week. John - iffy at best. No one would blame Kai for not going. Tom - questionable. Eve - pregnant. Gareth is rapidly becoming the last man standing. They may want to insure him with Lloyds of London (pun intended)
Gareth was sitting quietly in his hotel room, reading some crazy story about alien baby towels. He yawned and wondered how Scott was doing, dealing with a hurt John. Deciding to send a quick IM to Scott, Gareth jumped up from his chair when he heard the sound of his hotel room being broken down.
Gasping, he watched as a small bunch of baby towels dressed in black suits crawled across the floor, dragging what looked to be rubber duckies. They quickly surrounded the stunned actor and nudged him away from the sharp corners of the desk.
Debating on what to do next, his mobile rang. It was a message from John. A strange cryptic message about "They do exist! I've seen their pictures!"
***************reflects on current curse on the TW fandom in general*************
**************decides to dance in the privacy of her mind**************
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I think that's just Torchsong, to be honest. *secretly suspects the BBC*
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... Is Catherine Tate working? ;)
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And congratulations gracie!
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And thank you so very much! *hugs*
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Gasping, he watched as a small bunch of baby towels dressed in black suits crawled across the floor, dragging what looked to be rubber duckies. They quickly surrounded the stunned actor and nudged him away from the sharp corners of the desk.
Debating on what to do next, his mobile rang. It was a message from John. A strange cryptic message about "They do exist! I've seen their pictures!"
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