[action]

[tempzilla]

[Donna sits on a stool in a steel cage, resting her chin on her hand and glaring at everyone within fifty yards. Her leg dangles uncomfortably, the cast making it impossible to rest anywhere. A sign outside the cage reads: "DONNA NOBLE: HUMAN-TIMELORD METACRISIS. THERE HAS NEVER BEEN ONE BEFORE! THERE WILL NEVER BE ONE AGAIN

Comments

[worksmart]

...Bearded lady?

[tempzilla]

Do I look like I have a beard?

[worksmart]

With the size of the picture on these things? Too hard to tell.

[tempzilla]

You ought to look into getting glasses, mister.

[starfleet_pimp]

Now how are we supposed to have drinks if you're stuck in that cage?

1/2

[tempzilla]

Oh bloody --

[tempzilla]

Tell you what. Get me out of here and the drinks are on me.

[starfleet_pimp]

That sounds like body shots, Donna. You're on.