You Wouldn't Know A Clue If It

Sig Sauer. Nine Millimetres. Thirteen In The Magazine. Big Bullets. One Of These Hits You And It Could Blow Your Head Off; Something Even The Magic Can't Fix. Other Than That You Should Be All Right, Presuming You Remembered To Wear The Regulation Above-ground Micro-fibre Jumpsuit Recently Patented By Me. Then Again, Being A Recon Jock, You Probably Didn't.

It Would Take Less Than A Second For You To Die. But That's Quite Long Enough To Be In Mortal Agony, Don't You Think?

I Am Perhaps Unusual In That I Came To 'doctor Who' Through The Numerous Novelisations And Not Through The Television Show.

...hardly. A Ragged Apron Does Not A Waiter Make.

I'm The Crazy Girly Captain, Remember?