Oh, happy day. Happy days, in fact! Happy hours, happy time, happy... Well, a lot of happy in a good lot of ways. No Project Head (as stated), no Charon (also as stated), no corn mush or fish in the meal plan for weeks...
"WHAT DIDN'T YOU DO?"
There couldn't be happy without a little sad, right? Or... angry, in this case.
Someone had really, really put out the fire on the TARDIS's control panel. Not the Doctor, though; he's too busy half-tearing his hair out, flitting across the non-on-fire-panels, pulling this and that and occasionally shooting the flames glances of abject horror (as if they hadn't happened before, honestly) billowing up. Maybe in a second or two, after he'd had his fill of bellowing angrily, he'd propel himself into motion, but only maybe.
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"WHAT DIDN'T YOU DO?"
There couldn't be happy without a little sad, right? Or... angry, in this case.
Someone had really, really put out the fire on the TARDIS's control panel. Not the Doctor, though; he's too busy half-tearing his hair out, flitting across the non-on-fire-panels, pulling this and that and occasionally shooting the flames glances of abject horror (as if they hadn't happened before, honestly) billowing up. Maybe in a second or two, after he'd had his fill of bellowing angrily, he'd propel himself into motion, but only maybe.
What happy, happy times.