you bastard, you never sent me a postcard. Not once. Not even to say 'Hi Sarah, not dead, hope you're enjoying life back on Earth.' But Mickey, oh yes. The tin dog in human form gets a postcard and good old Sarah Jane isn't supposed to complain about it..
No, you sent me a robot dog. Who is doing fine, thanks for asking. As am I, for that matter. Me, my robot dog - oh, and my son. Just keeping you up to date, Doctor. Say hi to Rose for me, won't you?
I owe you for not telling Mickey about the honorary sunburn I got. I should have put together that three suns means three times as much sunscreen, shouldn't I?
Well, I had considered mentioning rubbing aloe on those overly-burned sensitive areas, but I thought that made the note sound a bit lewd, and I wouldn't want that.
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What? No, I sent you postcards. I sent you lots of postcards.
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Wait, what? Son? You have a son?
*pause*
*flail*
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This is adding up.
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