[The Master is lying sideways on a couch in his living room, shirtsleeves undone and rolled up, legs curled up towards him and back, elbow leaning on the arm of the couch. He looks relaxed, wearing only a white dress shirt and black trousers, his tie hanging loosely, haphazardly around his neck. He hasn't noticed that he's being filmed. In one of
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Well, as far as I can discern...I'm being shot again. Without actually actively getting shot.
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There's nothing to do, is there? Or it--I could get someone from the hospital, maybe?
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No?
Crap.
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Not to worry, my dear Penny. I am assured that I will be up and about again in hardly any time at all.
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There's nothing to do?
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[A slight gesture of the head downwards to the now bright red front of his previously white shirt.]
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[His eyes glance sideways, offscreen at where his jacket and therefore, his laser screwdriver is, across the room and then back to the screen.]
Tranquilisers, possibly. Only those rarely work on me.
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Maybe I could find some? Even if it only helps a little, it'd be worth something, right?
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[As the bullethole punctures the back of his heart, he grits his teeth and closes his eyes for a moment.]
It could just end up looking like it's working. I really have very strong immunity. If you knew where... the Doctor was [He can't quite make himself say it.] Never mind. Thank you.
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