That little over-achiever just managed to trip the Master up enough to send him sprawling again. He kicked at it ineffectually, striking out with the laser behind him in a blind panic and managing to cut off roughly half of its legs. And then he was crawling the rest of the way into the TARDIS, yanking the doors shut behind him just as the acidic projectile hit them with a wet, sizzling thud.

The Master took a moment to compose himself, climbing to his feet and brushing off his suit as best he could, shaking the remains of spindly, bristled legs off his shoe. Ruined. Utterly ruined. The Doctor definitely owed him now.

The console room was just as on her side as the outer shell of the TARDIS, and it took him a little while to work out exactly HOW to shimmy into the lower levels to go looking for the Doctor. At some point he'd emerge beneath the main console, covered in oil as well as goo now and looking positively murderous.

"Brilliant plan, did I tell you that yet?" he snapped.