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[The screen to the Doctor's journal flicks on, and... THERE'S A NOSE! Not a human nose, though. A dog nose, snorfling and leaving a spot of wet as it examines the screen.
Nothing interesting here, really. So the dog goes and lays down... It's Aristotle! He's happily panting and- there's a side of a bed. An arm drops off the side of it with a loose, uncuffed shirt sleeve. A faint drowsing sound follows. And then suddenly, in an obscuring mass of cocooned flailing sheets, the Doctor is falling off the bed.
That makes Aristotle yap, because there's something happening and he wants to be a part of it. There's some muttering about Rassilon, who knows what it means. Feet hop by as he's putting on his shoes, and Aristotle wags his tail.]
Oh what's this doing here!? [Much clearer, he picks up the journal.] What's it doing on!? [And he switches it off. It'll be turned back on when he gets back to his own room. 'Cause it's scandalous! The Vulcan woman might have taken advantage of him with her Wiley seductive scientific ways!]
Nothing interesting here, really. So the dog goes and lays down... It's Aristotle! He's happily panting and- there's a side of a bed. An arm drops off the side of it with a loose, uncuffed shirt sleeve. A faint drowsing sound follows. And then suddenly, in an obscuring mass of cocooned flailing sheets, the Doctor is falling off the bed.
That makes Aristotle yap, because there's something happening and he wants to be a part of it. There's some muttering about Rassilon, who knows what it means. Feet hop by as he's putting on his shoes, and Aristotle wags his tail.]
Oh what's this doing here!? [Much clearer, he picks up the journal.] What's it doing on!? [And he switches it off. It'll be turned back on when he gets back to his own room. 'Cause it's scandalous! The Vulcan woman might have taken advantage of him with her Wiley seductive scientific ways!]
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