What I need right now is a little ‘Rebooting’ symbol to pop up in my brain. That, and a just-under-lethal dose of painkillers. I think Womble might have them, and from looking at his wounds, he’ll need them more. He deserves them more.

You know, for some reason, I found myself surprised that Womble couldn’t self-heal. I don’t know why, but after all little enigmas he’s revealed so far, I was more intrigued to see the pickaxe-hand-hole still there. He’s got some experience in medical training though. Enough knowledge, at least, to help get yours truly up and about again and bandage himself. And he even did a swell job tidying the TARDIS medical bay up afterwards. Great thing, habit.

My top hat covers up most of the bruises and scars. I’ve given Womble a route to the TARDIS wardrobes in case he too wants some ‘scar-covering-clothes’; or to tidy up some more, if he so wishes. It’ll take him a long time though; the TARDIS’ wardrobe looks like a shopping mall occupied by every clothes shop, ever. Which, essentially, it is.

I’ll get back to navigating, and putting many light-years and real years between us and 77thC Mars. As to where next, I’m low on ideas. Womble mentioned he’d like to visit “Franc”, but I’ll need some specifics. Otherwise we could end up visiting Frank Miller, Frank Sinatra, Frank Fontaine or an American/Italian restaurant. Or all combined, if he’d like that.

I could let him drive, although he’s said in the past that it doesn’t respond to him. Whether that’s because the TARDIS computer only has my username, or the universe won’t allow a time anomaly to pilot a time machine: I don’t know. But as always, I’m rather inclined to try and find out.

Oh, and I’ll need a means of thanking him again. Something better than train steaks, this time…



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