“You know, Van Gogh cut off his ear,” Jack commented, rather unhelpfully.
“I hope you’re not suggesting I do the same.” Ianto’s voice was slightly muffled by the door he was pressed against.
“Hell, no! I like your ears right where they are. Well, not the left one obviously. Don’t worry, Owen will think of something. Right, Owen?”
Owen looked at Jack and grimaced.
“Sorry, Jack, I can’t do anything here. We’ll have to take him back to the Hub.”
“How do you propose we do that?”
“I’m working on it. Be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Haha,” muttered Ianto.
Owen returned brandishing a screwdriver.
“We’ll unscrew the hinges and carry the door with Teaboy on it.” Grinning, he turned to Ianto, “Don’t worry mate, I have something at the Hub that’ll work. Soon have you free!”
“You’d better. This is all your fault, you know.”
“I was hoping you hadn’t noticed.”
“My ear is glued to a door, Owen. Something like that is rather hard to overlook.”
“It wasn’t intentional. I was aiming at the alien!”
“It moved faster than I expected.”
“Whatever. What idiot suggested the glue-gun anyway?”
“I should’ve guessed.”