There was definitely a point where it Hit Donna that her best friend is not only 907 but also holy shit an alien and she is immediately filled with 10 million questions and Ten notices and is like fine I'll submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known and they spend a solid 4 hours going through the list
"Do you need to breathe?"
Yes
"Do you need to eat?"
Yes
"Do you need to drink water?"
Yes. Just generally assume that I have to do all the basic survival things that humans and also a good 79% of all life has to do.
"Right. So you...cant survive in outer space?"
No.
"Underwater?"
No.
"Extreme hot or cold temperatures?"
Donna I'm starting to think you're planning to kill me.
"Look pal you managed to survive cyanide poisoning with anchovies and, unfortunately, not the worst kiss I've ever had. The possibilities are pretty endless here."
That...what was the worst kiss you've ever had then?
"Oi! Who's asking the questions here?"
"If two guys were on the moon and one killed the other with a rock would that be fucked up or what?"
What does that have to do with me?
"Not everything is about you time boy."
gamegrrl
