"Mel, exactly how much more of this must I endure?" the Doctor asked. They had only been exercising a few minutes and he was already beginning to feel out of breath.
"Come on, Doctor!" called Mel, her cheerful voice echoing over the high-energy music blasting throughout the console room, "Just a few more! And when we're finished, you can have a peanut butter and carob smoothie. "The Doctor mentally huffed as he kicked up his knees for what felt like the hundredth time. He still had not gotten used to the thought of Mel filling his TARDIS console room with all of this bizarre exercise equipment or her insistence on re-stocking the kitchen with healthier, less appealing options (which made the Doctor only long for a piece of one of Evelyn's chocolate cakes and a cup of hot cocoa even more). For a Time Lord who had faced Daleks, Cybermen, and even living Gastropods, it was hard to say whether his newest companion's imposed workout routine was worse than all of them. No pain, no gain, he repeated to himself, no pain, no gain. Still, perhaps Mel had a point in being so concerned about his waistline. This routine was just going to take a bit longer to get used to.