My Dearest Kendrah,
Before any of those pompous Elves who spy on our correspondence start sniggering, by TV I mean TELEVISION, not TRANSVESTITE. I have not caught the king parading around the bedchamber wearing my unmentionables, claiming to be “Estel”. (Well, not recently anyway).
Anyway, to the problem at hand, I’m afraid I’m falling in love with the Doctor. Doctor who?, you ask? THE Doctor. Drives a TARDIS, Time Lord, regenerates occasionally. You are astounded I know. Shocked even. How can I fall for the Doctor? A character once played by Patrick Troughton! A guy with a mechanical dog! A playboy who jets through space and time with countless female “companions” dumping them randomly when he gets bored! The man who schlepped through seven years wearing a ridiculous floppy hat and oversized scarf! It’s wrong, it’s unnatural, I feel cheap and dirty, but there it is. I love the Doctor!!! (To be fair, I think it has a lot to do with David Tennant. Even when he isn’t being the Doctor he’s charming and has that sexy Scottish accent!)
It makes no difference to the King, however. He is most certainly not amused. He has made it know that actor or Doctor, I’m taking this crush way to far. I suggested that perhaps we invite David Tennant Doctor over for the weekend, just to meet him and get to know him a bit better. The King replied with disparaging remarks about the trouble Jon Pertwee Doctor had with alternate dimensions and brooded darkly on the possibility that the aged TARDIS would have issues making an Inter-Realty jump, because Eru forbid, what if they got STUCK in our reality! He finds this newest Doctor too lax in his duties, more interested in snogging than protecting the space/time continuum. “He’s no Tom Baker Doctor,” the King snorts derisively. He never fails to take the opportunity to remind me of all of the previous Doctors’ quirks and faults.
I just three new disks from Netflix and the King has decided to take a long hunting trip. (perhaps he’ll catch up with Legolas and they can sulk together!) For the time being, I suppose I must continue my unrequited adoration of David Tennant and trust that all will work out for the best.
Well, enough of my rambling. I should stop mooning over a man I can never have and make a precollege schedule or something. Sigh…
Your Affectionate Friend,
PS-it would be wrong to change my name to Romana, wouldn’t it?
PPS-Season three begins on SciFi tonight! Why, oh why do I have the crappy cable?!?!?!