Summary: Aliens up to no good should know better than to insult the Doctor!
“Doctor!” Clara tugged at the Doctor’s sleeve and thrust a flyer into his hand. “The Adnamites are offering a reward for your capture, dead or alive!”
“They must be getting desperate. They know it’s only a matter of time before I defeat them, and then their foothold in this universe will be lost.” The Doctor took the flyer and straightened it out, studying the picture. “It doesn’t even look like me, and the reward’s a joke. They’re offering a measly five-thousand Galactic Credits; I should be worth ten times that, at least! Right, that’s it, I’m done with playing nice!”