"Shut up," the Master mutters, gritting his teeth against the renewed pounding in his head. Isn't it just like the Doctor to cut right through even an Anetrizine high!

The sledge is as ready as it will ever be. The Master drags it over viciously, his mouth set in a thin, curt line, and plops it next to the Doctor. Or, partially on the Doctor, if one is to be entirely accurate. Oopsie.

"It's as you said, Doctor. Why let the elements have all the fun? Now," and he gives him a hard kick to punctuate. "Get on."