Rose: Queen Victoria is a werewolf?
Doctor: Could be. And her family had the Royal disease. Maybe she gave them a quick nip.
Rose: So, the Royal Family are werewolves?
Doctor: Well, maybe not yet. I mean, a single wolf cell could take a hundred years to mature. Might be ready by, ooh.. early 21st century?
Rose: Nah, that’s just ridiculous! Mind you. Princess Anne..
Doctor: I’ll say no more!
Rose: And if you think about it, they’re very private. They plan everything in advance. They could schedule themselves around the moon, we’d never know! They like hunting! They love blood sports! Oh my God, they’re werewolves!
“Oh! Is this 1953? This is a brilliant year, classic! Technicolor, Everest climbed, everything off the ration. A nation throwing off the shadows of war and looking forward to a happier, brighter future!”
When I first met the Doctor, a long long time ago, he knew all about me. Think about that. Impressionable young girl and suddenly this man just drops out of the sky. He’s clever and mad and wonderful and… and knows every last thing about her. Imagine what that does to a girl… Trouble is, it’s all back to front. My past is his future. We’re travelling in opposite directions. Every time we meet I know him more, he knows me less. I live for the days when I see him. But I know that every time I do he’ll be one step further away. The day’s coming when I’ll look into that man’s eyes, my Doctor, and he won’t have the faintest idea who I am. And I think it’s going to kill me.