The Doctor swore silently to himself. He was doing his best to remain calm, but his patience was beginning to wear thin. Out of all the foes and potentially fatal situations he had faced during his travels, this was by far the worst. He counted to five slowly and turned around.

Romana was standing in front of the mirror, her nose wrinkled, biting her bottom lip. The Doctor couldn't tell if she was pleased or disgusted with what she was seeing. "Does it work?" he asked. His voice held all the emotion of a stick. Romana shook her head. "No, I just don't think this one's working either." She turned to face the Doctor. "What do you think?"

The Doctor sighed heavily. They had been at this for hours. "Romana, it's perfect. They've all been perfect." Romana gaped at him. "Surely you don't think that! I gave your intelligence more credit up to this point. Any fool can see that the red was superior to the black."

The Doctor could feel himself beginning to go mad. "Romanadveratnalundar! Pick something and get dressed. We don't have until Time sees fit to end for you to find a new outfit!"

Romana wasn't convinced. "Are you sure this one looks right?" The Doctor stared at the blue dress she had chosen. "It's fine. You look lovely. Can we go with that one?" Romana shook her head. "You're just saying that to make me settle. For all it makes me look fat. Do I look fat?" The Doctor could sense a headache coming on. He thanked the heavens that Susan had never regenerated while traveling with him.