The Master

[A smartly dressed figure is prodding at the PCD with a long metal tool, as if he's trying to work out just how it works. Nothing looks very out of the ordinary with him, aside from the splotch of crimson on his otherwise impeccably clean white dress shirt.]

It figures that humans can't do anything right. Such a simple set of instructions, and yet they still managed to foul that up! What godforsaken planet is this now? I hardly intend on being trapped here.

Something on this magnitude, though... I wonder if he had a hand in it. Oh, I wouldn't be surprised at all. He does like me so.

So, dearest Doctor. Are you hiding here or in your little TARDIS somewhere? I can't sense you, but no matter. You're no different than me when it comes to tricks. Come out, come out, our business isn't quite finished yet!