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Day 1: I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself. I’ve got killer hair and rockin’ some shabby chic. Have located the Doctor, but he’s babbling on about not being the Doctor but being WAR. Me thinks the Sisterhood’s potion was a wee bit too strong.
Day 2: The Doctor still wants me to call him WAR. I’m calling him a nutter.
Day 3: Right, so, the Time War. So much sighing. Rassilon’s all I AM ANCIENT AND FOREVER. You’re a right arsehole is what you are. When it comes down to it, Time Lords are sort of sheeples following their grand arsehole sheep. Except for the Doctor, who’s awesome 94% of the time. (That’s right. The Bad Wolf does maths. Suck it.)
Day 4: It’s obvious all the Daleks and all the Time Lords need to be shoved in a hole. Nutter Doctor’s having none of it. So much for “WAR.” Also WAR is starting to hit on me. Let’s just say he’s not super smooth.
Day 5: Have told Nutter that he really really really needs to shove everyone in a hole. Waiting for him to do something.
Day 8: Still waiting.
Day 10: Have learned crochet. Still waiting.
Day 11: You might be asking why I don’t just Bad Wolf everyone into the hole. Well, if I did that Nutter will never regenerate into Mr. Hot Ears With Northern Accent. It’s part of his Plan. Or whatever.
Day 12: Right, I might have slept with Nutter. And probably yelled out “DO ME, WAR” at one point. (STOP WITH YOUR JUDGING.) This is turning into a problem since now he’s sonic’ed up an engagement ring. AWKWARD.
Day 13: Have agreed to wear the ring if he agrees to shove everyone in the hole.
Day 14: DAMN IT. NEVER AGREE TO ANYTHING INVOLVING A TIME LORD AND TIME. Long story short, I’m wearing the ring and everyone goes in the hole “eventually.”
Day 20: Yup. We’re married. I’m Mrs WAR. The upside: he’s still the Doctor even if he’s madder than a bag of squirrels, and I sort of love the barmy git. The downside: the Time Lords and Daleks are still running around being dicks. WARnutter keeps saying that the moment is coming. RECEIPTS.