"Well, isn't this just wizard," Donna muttered, glancing around the disaster of a flat. The kitchen sink was piled high with dirty dishes, and the counters were littered with empty take out containers. A veritable Vesuvius of used tissues erupted from the wastebasket.
"Sorry 'bout the mess," Rose croaked miserably from the bedroom.
"Don't you worry about a thing, love," Donna cooed, perching on the side of the bed and smoothing her friend's tangled hair back from her face. "Fancy a nice soak in the tub, while I change the linens for you?"
"That sounds like heaven," Rose agreed, with a wan smile.
"Oi, spaceman!" Donna bellowed. "Think you can make yourself useful and clean up this pigsty a bit?"
"Now, Donna, that's not fair," Rose protested, "he's sick, too."
"Well, that skinny little streak of nothing better just keep his Martian cooties away from me, that's all I'm sayin.'"
"No worries on that score, Donna," the lump on the couch mumbled stuffily.