I’m waiting for the 51st Anniversary special next year, when the Doctor has to save us all because Moffat’s ego has actually eclipsed the sun.
Careful, honey, it’s loaded,” he said, reentering the bedroom.
Her back rested against the headboard. “This for your wife?”
“No. Too chancy. I’m hiring a professional.”
“How about me?”
He smirked. “Cute. But who’d be dumb enough to hire a lady hit man?”
She wet her lips, sighting along the barrel.
I’m just a needy piece of shit that needs constant reassurance that I’m wanted