So tell me, are there any alternate versions of my husband hanging about this place? Given its penchant for... duplication, shall we say- well, one never knows.
Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, Doctor; it seems there's quite enough versions of you around here to keep track of any amount of duplicates of my husband.
Oh indeed. One might even go so far as to call it an infestation. And not just you, but other men wearing your face; it should flatter your ego, at any rate.
Is there anybody anywhere who knows you as well as he does? But I might say I know you as well as anybody; one learns a lot about someone, after all, watching them tortured for a year.
Oh, if I wanted to, I don't doubt I could manage it, but really, I'd like to keep my head attached to my shoulders. I prefer being alive to performing macabre tricks, you understand.
You can't say you could do it, and then just decide you don't want to. But I'll let it go, I mean, I'm sure you would like to keep your so-called wits about you.
Of course, you're just as bonkers as the Master is. Well, maybe not quite as bonkers.
Well, to be perfectly honest, I'd rather not be around when you, you know, get beheaded. If you do, that is. Lots of blood in a beheading, I'd hate to get anything nasty like blood on my coat. It's a horrible stain.
Yeah, but, well, that's not Cheshire Cat-esque, is it?
Oh, I know; terrible, really. Harry wanted to make the torture chamber on the Valiant a replica of my old bedroom at Tarminster for ages and ages; I had to dissuade him. Because really? Blood out of shag carpet and linen? Impossible.
Yes, well, I was talking about degrees of lunacy, not physiology.
It's hard enough trying to keep track of one of you.
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Duplicates of me, eh? This place is sounding better and better! Must take one for a friendly chat in the pub one day, I'm sure he'd appreciate it.
Well, I would, at any rate.
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[Amused]
Oh, well, who could blame them! I'm such a handsome devil after all! [Runs a hand through his hair with a foolish grin]
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That is what I said. And it seems I wasn't wrong about your ego either.
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It would be sort of pointless, don't you think? Hmm.
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Well, honestly? Probably not, no. Mind you, it doesn't make him any less of a loon.
Yes, well. ...
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[private little smile]
Cheshire Cat has nothing on us, and all that.
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[grins]
Oh, I don't know. Can you stand on your head?
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You can't say you could do it, and then just decide you don't want to. But I'll let it go, I mean, I'm sure you would like to keep your so-called wits about you.
Of course, you're just as bonkers as the Master is. Well, maybe not quite as bonkers.
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I could, of course, do a more, hmm, regular headstand if I felt like it. Not that I really do.
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Yeah, but, well, that's not Cheshire Cat-esque, is it?
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Yes, well, I was talking about degrees of lunacy, not physiology.
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