Doctor: So, Mrs. Temple-Noble, my editor, Mr. uh…J. Jonah Jameson, tells me that you were inspired to write these books because of vivid - ?
Donna: Dreams, yes. For the past - gosh, three years or so - I’ve been having peculiar ones nearly every single night. Like, being left at the alter for a giant spider, having a giant cockroach on my back, and being attacked by a giant wasp! Not that they’re all giant-insects-related though.
Doctor: Eek, sounds terrifying!
Donna: No, but see: they only sound that way. Somehow, I feel completely happy during ‘em. The most wonderful part of my day is when I’m sleeping.
Doctor: I’m sorry.
Donna: Phh, don’t apologize. I love it! Besides, not like it’s your fault, Mr. - oh, sorry, forget it. My brain’s a bit scrambled, chasing after an 18-month-old all day.
Doctor: I’m Mr. Lake, but you can call me ‘Jackson’. And you…you have a son?
Donna: Daughter. Name’s Jenny.
Doctor: Oh, what a cool name!. Though I do hope your phone number isn’t 867-5309. Whoops, bad joke. It’s a song - American, I think. Anyway, you were saying?
Donna: Well, being a former temp - and a pretty good one, if I must say - I’m able to type my dreams out quickly every morning, before they fade much from memory. And they’re so utterly ridiculous, that I don’t want to keep ‘em cooped up just inside my brain. I thought, why not share the stories with children!
Donna: Nah, but thanks. Here’s the first book. *passes him it*
Doctor: Daisy’s Wild Ride.
Donna: Yeah, Daisy’s a young girl in a few of my dreams. Pretty. Blonde.
Doctor: What are these little smiley blooby things on the first page?
Donna: Just some cute creatures, harmless. They prance naked around the street, and are fun to wave at.
Doctor: And these - ? *points to another page*
Donna: Ah, those are the Doods. Aliens who sing and have spaghetti permanently stuck in their mouths.
Doctor: And her - *points again*? With the nice curly hair?
Donna: Puddle. Bloody rubbish name, I know. But that’s what she calls herself in my dreams - Puddle Lullabye. She’s a bit of a tease, very secretive.
Doctor: Sounds intriguing! And *points again* what is that - a police box?! Nice blue color! Lemme guess: it’s magical?
Donna: Nope, that’s a porta-potty.
Donna: And see this too-skinny bloke who looks like he could use an IV to pump bacon directly into his lanky frame? Not that you’re much bigger. Wait, sorry, would you like something to eat? I made a fresh loaf of banana bread earlier.
Doctor: Sure! I love bread…of nearly all fruit flavors! At least, I think I do. But first, what were you saying about that man? The too skinny one? Though the hair doesn’t look so bad, even if the suit’s a bit raggedy…
Donna: He’s a doctor.
Doctor: Oh? Really?
Donna: Yup, Doctor Jack Harksmith.
Doctor: *sputtery noises*
Donna: He’s a wee bit *points to her head and twirls around a finger* cuckoo. He travels by magic carpet - calls it a ‘CARPIS’, insists upon running around everywhere in a suit, is easily amused by his miniscule knowledge of Italian, carries around a laser hammer, and licks nearly everything in sight - edible or not. Oh and he’s clearly head-over-trainers in love with Daisy, but he never ever tells her. Can you even believe that?
Doctor: Well, it sure does sound like the stuff of legend. A bit fairytale, maybe.
Donna: I know, I know. And he - this Doctor Jack Harksmith - can be annoying as my mother. And believe me, my mother is annoying. Plus, he’s overly hyperactive and rather irrational, so I’m practically his babysitter. But you know what, Mr. Lake?
Doctor: What’s that, Mrs. Nob - uh, Mrs. Temple-Noble?
Donna: He’s fantastic. As is every single dream. I wouldn’t trade them in for anything.