So, with that meddling human gone, you'd think that only the Doctor would be the irritation, correct? Wrong. I had planned to have the Circus Man I've swayed until my power to hold the Doctor at his oh-so delightful circus, but then the Companion stepped in; Miss Josephine Grant, again. Ugh. I should have used that example there and then to get rid of all of the Doctor's latch-ons and friends, but I didn't. Even a back up of a hypnotised minion to blow them up with another explosive failed.


It was right at this point that I truly begin to hate the Doctor. Why?

Because I failed to take into account the fact that he'd sneak into my own TARDIS and STEAL MY BLASTED DEMATERIALISATION CIRCUIT!


Ugh. Stupid, irritating Doctor! Why? Why hadn't I considered that possibility?

In any case, I was too busy to realise this blunder just yet, my plans with the Nestene apparently in place. Though the Doctor was still alive, I posed to ensure his downfall soon enough, and as expected two attacks by their Auton dummies failed to kill him or UNIT – if I could do it, however could they? Pah!

I had, nevertheless, put myself in a powerful position – the father of the owner of the plastics factory I controlled dead by Auton after I irritatingly found him too strong-willed to control – a human, too strong? Ugh! But with him gone, the Nestene were able to hand out the plastic daffodils of their creation out via my genius and begin to terminate key members of the British Population, people who might seek to stop me and my allies.

As expected and with a bloody trail to follow thank to the Nestene, the Doctor learnt about my alter-ego in 'Colonel Masters', and so of cause I had to create my own diversion – a simple disguise and entry to UNIT would apparently see to that. Meanwhile the foolish Time Lord and Miss Grant located the Troll which had killed the formerly mentioned fool and destroyed it, though not before finding evidence in a plastic daffodil to link the Nestene to my position. Things were getting out of my control.

Two schemes unfortunately failed in quick succession. First came my arranged plan of using a telephone line to kill the Doctor by strangling him with the line – a pity this would not be possible in this era, ah well. But he survived thanks to another of his allies in the Brigadier. Next, Jo Grant accidentally became my next target when a radio signal activated by the dear Doctor sent a sprayed plastic mask over his nose and mouth. A perfect means of killing, with no evidence there after! However, the Doctor saved her and now knew the means to our victory.

The next few sets of events I admit were partly my fault, call it a sense of my worse half, my sympathy for the Doctor in a moment of weakness coming through. I had arranged for the brainwashed Plastic Factory Owner to drive a bus of Autons carrying the needed troops for an initial attack before the main forces arrived. Meanwhile I, having learnt of the Doctor's stealing of my TARDIS circuits, demanded that he return them to me, threatening Jo Grant's life, a technique I learnt often would win the Doctor over.

In this case they did not work, though I did not emerge empty-handed, as the stupid girl blurted out a useful fact, that UNIT planned to bomb the bus and destroy my allies, leading me to order Miss Grant and the Doctor to accompany me so as to prevent the stupid Brigadier using his pathetic 'trump card', so to speak.

Irritatingly it was ill at this point for Farrell to attempt to betray me, forcing me to use the remaining Autons to attack UNIT whilst I retreated to the facility to send the signal. However, this was the said moment that the Doctor appealed to my lesser sides, of our former friendship. The Doctor pointed out that the Nestene would certainly strive to destroy me as well as him when they arrived, and I was forced to concede that possibility. With such a problem in mind, we resolved to work together, one last time (or so I thought at the time) to prevent the Nestene entry. Of course I knew the Doctor would turn his attentions to me when he had the chance, so I quietly slipped away when the moment presented itself, setting a last plan to disguise a brainwashed Farrell as my scrape-goat.

I had to collect my wits within my TARDIS, assessing my position. So long as the Doctor held those stolen circuits, I was almost as trapped as him; confined to linear time on one planet, able to move my ship in space, albeit limitedly, but not time. My next plan to defeat him would be far more confined, but no less impressive. I was playing for keeps now, and I would defeat him.


And so the whole miserable year of my life with the Doctor began. Bah.