"Listen up, you, 'cause I'm only going to say this one more time. One. More. Time," she repeated, accentuating each word with a wag of her finger. "It might have been okay that first time. And you were a bit out of control. And it wasn't even really my shed. But now..."
She paused to catch her breath before continuing, "Now there's really no excuse for this kind of behavior. After all, there are plenty of other places to settle in the garden which do not involve destroying anything. And really, what had that poor gnome ever done to you? Or the chaise lounge before it? Or the grill? Or the..." Her voice was rising; she was losing control. And while it felt good, she made herself take another deep breath. After all, technically, it was an innanimate object. "Anyway. You get the idea. And it has to stop. Now. Look, Rory's even made you a perfectly good concrete patio – and believe me, if you knew what it took to talk him into that – but do you ever use it? No. It's the grass. Or the flowers. Or anything else you can find to crush or knock over or destroy. Every. Single. Time."
"And you should just count yourself lucky, you, that it's never been anything really important. Anything they'd miss. Like a tricycle. Or a doll. Or even one of them. Imagine if he popped in for a visit and I had to explain that you'd managed to crush one of his children? Because then he'd be in here. And then you really would be sorry... 'cause I know how you feel about him. Your mad little thief. But me? Oh. No. It's okay when it's just my things, isn't it?"
She was leaning over the controls now, properly angry. "You're in there somewhere laughing, aren't you?" she asked, glaring up at the central column. "Wherever you are? Having a good laugh over poor..."
"Mother?" Amy spun round to find her daughter standing in the open TARDIS doors. "Who are you talking to?"
"Uhm... Myself?" she suggested.
Her daughter arched an eyebrow and waited, giving Amy's anger time to dissipate, before observing, "The TARDIS would just materialize around them, you know. She'd never hurt the children."
"She'd scare them half to death."
"They'd love it and you know it."
Yeah. Those little buggers probably would. "Still... Can't you...?"
"I've tried, Mother. Honestly. It's just..."
"You should never have moved back here. I did warn you."
"It's better for the kids. Lots of open spaces. Low crime rates. Great schools..."
"The only hope of escape, Grand Theft Auto... Or Grand Theft Time Lord."
"Don't give them any ideas. Any of them."
"I probably don't have to... and that's the problem. According to her," she said, stepping forward to join Amy and nodding toward the console, "It's also the single most boring place in the whole of the Universe. Especially if you happen to be a TARDIS. And especially if you happen to be a TARDIS who keeps getting dragged back time and time and time again to the single most boring place in the Universe when all you really want is be absolutely anywhere else." She patted the controls sympathetically as she concluded.
Amy could have sworn the ever-present engine noise dropped to a satisfied hum at her daughter's touch. Which was more than she wanted to consider at the moment. "And...?" she asked instead.
"Mother... It's just... She really, really, really hates Leadworth."