"What's really going to be difficult to explain is how the blackberry jam ended up on the ceiling," Rassilon observed, picking up the tea-tray from where an errant vortex-shake had thrown it across the room.
"I'm not sure whether to chide you for having missed the target completely, or applaud you for having impaled this housefly to the wall," V observed, plucking the knife from the panneling on which the target had been mounted.
"Very funny guys, who taped that Elder Sign to Yog-Sothoth's ... erm ... red stratum?"
The swordfights with inanimate objects were one thing, but as far as Evie was concerned, a revolution without Dance Dance Revolution was not only perfectly worth having, but a lot quieter.
The resultant amalgamation could only have come about after a night of plying John Nathan-Turner and Terrance Dicks with copious amounts of acid--a blindingly clad, recorder-playing monstrosity intent on reversing the polarity of jelly babies at cricket games, or else we'll all end up cinders floating in Spain, but why is a mouse when it spins?
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Okay, we've all heard the joke. But still -- V and DDR.
The Doctors + a Brundle teleporter.
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The swordfights with inanimate objects were one thing, but as far as Evie was concerned, a revolution without Dance Dance Revolution was not only perfectly worth having, but a lot quieter.
The resultant amalgamation could only have come about after a night of plying John Nathan-Turner and Terrance Dicks with copious amounts of acid--a blindingly clad, recorder-playing monstrosity intent on reversing the polarity of jelly babies at cricket games, or else we'll all end up cinders floating in Spain, but why is a mouse when it spins?
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