Don’t get me started on that sponging wastrel. He promised me a Raxacoricopalatorian wiseman, and six Ood slaves on our wedding day. We’ll have beautiful hatchlings, who will absorb the universe and have faces all over their bodies. Ha! He didn’t stay around for the six hatchling’s I’ve now got to feed. They’re living off asteroid harpies and swamp rats, while he’s in Klom-knows-where on a gorge-a-thon. You’ve no idea how hard it is to be a single mother on Klom, living in a swamp hut in a Raxocoricofallapatorian stronghold. None of their cattle-breeds can be absorbed. I should have listened to my mother. Don’t trust a space trader, child, they will only break your heart. The hatchlings keep asking when Daddy will come home and I can’t tell them.
The last I heard, he was scavenging around this dirt planet called Earth, hiding amongst the humans under the name Victor Kennedy. Got a group of them working round the clock to get him a timelord and a spaceship. Like he’ll be able to stop himself absorbing them for long enough!
I hope the ground swallows him whole!