Quick pit stop

Dear Diary,

I’m still wrapping my head around everything that happened yesterday, but I’m going to try and write about it anyways. After finishing up my previous entry I stripped off my uniform and folded it up on the bed, it was going to be eaten once I left anyhow and I thought it made for a nice declarative statement. I strolled over to the TARDIS casually and cherished the sight of the Doctor rendered speechless at me leaning seductively on the doorframe utterly bare. After explaining why I had turned up to the TARDIS doors stark naked the Doctor snapped out of his awkward state of shock and got to work, trying to enact the use of the TARDIS’ image projection capabilities. While he fiddled with the console I lounges on a nearby chair, I’m much more comfortable being all natural in front of him, afterall he’s already seen it many times, or will do anyways, hard to keep track of where we’re both at timeline wise.

However it wouldn’t work, the Doctor then remembered that he had been meaning to repair it for a while now and so he set a course for the markets of Keentol. Typical. The Doctor told me to wait in the TARDIS, promising that he wouldn’t be long. I knew that was untrue, not just because of rule 1 but also because I’m well aware of how distracted he can be by various trinkets. So after he went outside I decided to take a casual stroll through the TARDIS where I happened upon one of the dressing rooms. I looked through the racks upon racks of eccentric clothes with forlorn, when my eye was drawn to a particular jacket.

Removing it from the rack I realised it was one I had encountered before, it was one which the Doctor had worn in one of his previous lives, and a very tasteless one at that. The coat was very patchwork and looked as though it had been rescued from an explosion in a paint factory with it’s various bright, clashing colours. I was shocked that he even still kept the thing around. I then had a thought to myself, I was a walking clothes destroyer, I could save the universe here and now from having to ever see the Doctor wearing this monstrosity again. And if he ever questioned me about it I could just say I wanted to check if the Governess was lying afterall. So with giddy mischief I slipped my arms into the sleeves, gripped the lapels tightly, puffed my chest out and put on a look of pride to mimic how he used look back then and stared into the mirror, eagerly awaiting to see the wretched thing dissolve once and for all.