[As the doctor-kitty pounces, he might well find himself crashing headlong into a slightly grouchy-looking tan and white Scottish Fold. Said cat backs up in the hurried, almost-clumsy way that only a cat can, and stares at him with wide, vivid green eyes.]
... You're still wearing a sodding bowtie.
[England can't handle any of this. Being turned into a fairy was nothing on this.]
[Action] // I AM FINALLY HERE sorry for late
... You're still wearing a sodding bowtie.
[England can't handle any of this. Being turned into a fairy was nothing on this.]