May. 31st, 2010

best_served_hot: (do I look like I want to share ~ no mine)
The Master had mostly been keeping to himself. Having been popping on and off of the Astral Plane multiple times, bringing various items with him with each return trip, he'd been far too busy to go out of his way to terrorize anyone needlessly. That isn't to say he didn't have something of an audience and an irritated one at that.

On his first trip, he'd brought back the remnants of an old box spring mattress. Subsequent trips had produced pillows in various states, shapes, fabrics and sizes. All of these he saw fit to pile around the mattress as he found suitable places for all. Much rearranging went into this as he didn't seem pleased at all with his starting work before he finally stopped, seemingly satisfied. Then it was off to the kitchen and that is where the Hand came into our story.

Isn't that fantastic?

Isn't it? Yes, I thought so, now where was I? Oh yes.

Our lesson today is on the benefits of being aware of your surroundings. Read for more information. )

A/N: For [livejournal.com profile] handysparehand, it is very, very late but I did it. Also, [livejournal.com profile] handysparehand and [livejournal.com profile] salvagestime were used with permission and no Time Lords were harmed in the writing of this fic, though a few dozen pillows were massacred.
prompt: Yet another brought on by cracky conversation.
words: 1618

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The Master

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