After taking my dog for a much needed walk, he returned to the house in a continued state of restless, so ran to the hiding place where it had stowed our faithful and utterly harmless green plastic bucket after ripping the handle from it and making it fairly useless. I seized this off him in a heartbeat, however, deciding that we humans had far more use for it.
I'm very glad at this point that Tom Baker once said "What's the use of being grown-up if you can't be childish sometimes" for it gives me the half-a-modicum of justification that I need for what happened next.
I put the bucket on my head and proceeded to do stupid voices for circa 10 minutes.
The usual suspects, really:
"I find your lack of faith... DISTURBING!"
"This is excellent news, Doctor!"
"Yo mama's goin' on a date, yo got that? A date! We're gonna have fine wine, nice music, we're gonna have a GOOD TIME, dig?"
"Hmm, to have the power to press a button, and then destroy an entire species... I would. AND THROUGH THE DALEKS I WOULD HAVE THAT POWER!!!"
"EX-TER-MINATE, EX-TER-MINATE! SOME-ONE-GET-ME-A-FUCK-ING-RING-MOD-U-LATOR!"
"Helloo, and welcome to... Global Village!"
It scared the shit out of my dog.
What does this say about me? I guess I'll leave it to the Conan-Doyle fans and the psych-students.