(no subject)
Am most depressed. Am, in fact, going to sulk for rest of millenium and work on nervous breakdown. Fricking cat. Cat sick on TARDIS floor. Cat hair in TARDIS controls. I think it got fleas in the upholstery. Head also itches rather worryingly.
Not to mention, fricking plot devices. They never come out in my favour, do they? Do they? Pah.
On second thought, am going to get very, very drunk and enjoy 'company' of Groddvak, who has finally stopped sulking after being locked in cupboard for 4 days while I entertained the_brigadier. Wish I knew where he'd gone. Said he'd be back in 5 minutes with that pint of milk two days ago. Feeling abandoned. Feeling pissed. Feeling like killing or maiming something. Preferably something with a big stupid scarf.
Have shut yourfutureruler and davros in a very small room together. Soundproofed. May never let them out. Am considering dumping key out of TARDIS.
On plus side, daleks make excellent waiters if trays are glued to their heads so the drinks can't get shaken off unless they get really agitated with all the "kill kill kill!" (oh, sorry Davros, that's exterminate, you wheeled ponce). Oh, yes, and that slow acting poison I additionally fed to the damn cat as my backup plan should shortly be starting to take effect on the idiot creature. I have the only antidote in my possession. That animal is dead. Dead! Dead, unless the Doctor surrenders to me!!!
Not to mention, fricking plot devices. They never come out in my favour, do they? Do they? Pah.
On second thought, am going to get very, very drunk and enjoy 'company' of Groddvak, who has finally stopped sulking after being locked in cupboard for 4 days while I entertained the_brigadier. Wish I knew where he'd gone. Said he'd be back in 5 minutes with that pint of milk two days ago. Feeling abandoned. Feeling pissed. Feeling like killing or maiming something. Preferably something with a big stupid scarf.
Have shut yourfutureruler and davros in a very small room together. Soundproofed. May never let them out. Am considering dumping key out of TARDIS.
On plus side, daleks make excellent waiters if trays are glued to their heads so the drinks can't get shaken off unless they get really agitated with all the "kill kill kill!" (oh, sorry Davros, that's exterminate, you wheeled ponce). Oh, yes, and that slow acting poison I additionally fed to the damn cat as my backup plan should shortly be starting to take effect on the idiot creature. I have the only antidote in my possession. That animal is dead. Dead! Dead, unless the Doctor surrenders to me!!!