Oh I often think and muse about
If there were not bad news about
What would I find to stick my nose into,
There is nothing as appealing as a stew
Or witches brew
Of evil hue.
It’s one thing to have the time to pause
And mend the TARDIS’s few flaws
When I have nothing much around to do,
But it can’t compare with the savoir faire
Of staring down some villain’s glare
And giving them a right old talking-to!
[Does dance of derring-do, and makes sword-fighting
Oh, I’ve unplugged the bleeping thingy
So we’re drifting like a dinghy
There’s nothing here to thwart my DIY
But still I find my inner eye
Drifts back to days of blundering in, and locking up an evil Djinn
Or poking Dalek’s squarely in their ‘eyesight-impeded’.
Well it makes a chap feel needed.
Which is more than you can say for….
BOTHER SPRING CLEANING!