Ginger and the Doctor had just finished up saving the world in 1978 with the help of three stragglers they'd met along the way. Now that the Earth had been saved from the extra terrestrial threat, Ginger had time to really look at them.

"Wait," Ginger said. "Don't I know you?"

"I don't think so," the blonde said. "I'm pretty sure we'd remember."

"What did you say your names were?" the Doctor asked.

"Fred," the man said.

"Schneider," Ginger finished for him, coming to the sudden realization.

"Cindy," the blonde said.

"Wilson," Ginger said, then turning to the brunette. "Which makes you Kate Pierson?"

"Yeah," the brunette said, surprised. "How did you know?"

Ginger and the Doctor exchanged surprised looks. "Oh my God."

"Far out! You're the B-52's!" Ginger said, excitement rising. "The actual honest-to-God, B-52's!"

"You know of us?" Fred asked.

"Absolutely!" the Doctor replied.

"You don't understand," Ginger said. "Your music has been such a gift to us!"

"There's not a day that goes by that we don't bond over at least one of your songs! And not just the alien-themed ones either!"

"We don't even have an album out yet," Cindy said. "How do you know us?"

Ginger laughed in disbelief. "When I come from, you're extremely famous."

"Did you just say 'when'?" asked Kate.

"Maybe," she grinned.

"We're from the future, sort of," the Doctor said.

"Alien time travelers," Ginger said.

"That honestly explains so much about you," Cindy said.

"What planet are you from?" asked Fred.

"Are you a Martian?" Cindy asked.

"Why does everyone always think that?" the Doctor asked.

"Like we have big brainy heads full of green goo," Ginger agreed.

"So where are you from?" asked Kate.

Ginger laughed again. "Planet Claire," she joked.

"I like that," Fred replied, evidently not realizing it was a joke. "Could make a song out of that. She came from Planet Claire..."

The Doctor and Ginger both simultaneously felt their jaws drop.

"Yeah," the Doctor said, nodding. "You should definitely write that song."

"Tell us more about this planet," Fred asked.

"Well," Ginger said, exchanging a look of disbelief with the Doctor. "Planet Claire has pink air..."

"All the trees are red," the Doctor said.

"Oh my God," Ginger said. "Jack is gonna freak when I tell him about this!"

"He's definitely going to lose his mind!"

...

"Well that was fun," the Corsair said, getting up to get dressed.

"Which time?" asked Jack.

"I really need to be going now. I'll call you."

Jack followed her as she walked out towards the living room, collecting the trail of clothing she'd discarded along the way.

"So," Jack said. "Three nights in a row. This is becoming a pattern for you."

"I meant to ask," she said, completely ignoring him. "How's Alex been?"

The real world suddenly came crashing down on him. "She'll be fine," he said. "Just broke up with her girlfriend on Valentine's. She's processing. I'm actually heading over there tonight. It'll be good for her to get out of the house. I'd invite you too, but my invitation said 'no plus ones'."

"Invitation?" the Corsair asked. "Invitation to what?"

Jack walked over to his desk and pulled a little piece of laminated paper from a drawer.

"This came in the mail just after you left Tuesday," he explained.

"A coming out party?" asked Corsair, looking at the picture of a big green alien on the front.

"A real proper bacchanalia. Ginger's, apparently. Which is funny, because I know she doesn't like parties. But, you know, it's about time she came out. Been expecting it for months."

"I don't understand this timeline," Corsair replied, shaking her head. "I've never seen anything like this. I don't know what it could mean."

"Don't think too hard about it," Jack shrugged. "It's probably a low-key thing."

"Just keep an eye on them," the Corsair insisted. "Make sure they stay in the friend zone."

"Ginger doesn't have a friend zone," Jack teased. "She'd resent the accusation that she cares about anyone."

"Jack-"

"Why are you so worried about them anyway?" he asked. "And please, no more cryptic answers."

"I'm afraid that's our time for today," the Corsair said. "Now. Do your best to cock block, would you?"

...

Jack opened the blinds. "Afternoon, sunshine," he said, peering down at the bed where Alex was still lying.

"Go away," she said, rolling over. "I've said I'm fine, I just want to sleep."

"Yeah? Well you've been practically in a coma since the other day, and I'm not saying that you don't deserve some time for mourning but we're needed today."

She groaned. "It's a little late to get me to school," she complained. "Class will have let out already and I called in sick this morning."

"Not talking about school," he said. "Did you not look at your invitation I gave you?"

"Not really," she said. "Which invitation is that?"

He picked it up off the bedside table where it had evidently been untouched. "Ginger's coming out bacchanal. It's tonight. We're expected."

She groaned again. "I don't feel like a party," she said. "Also, who has a party on a Thursday night?"

"I imagine Ginger will say something about it being a protest against capitalism reserving frivolity for the weekend."

"That does sound like her," she admitted. "Anyway, I'm not going. I'm not in any shape."

"Normally, I'd let you sit this one out," Jack said. "But this is Ginger's coming out party. I don't know anything, but I imagine they haven't invited many people. Sure she could have any historical figure come, but when she says a party she only means a few people so she can't get overwhelmed by big crowds of strangers. You and I are the only two people we know who got invited. So that makes me guess that if you don't come then I will be the only person there. Plus, you should really be there to support her. Don't you want to be there for the moment when she finally admits that she's gay? We've waited so long."

"Alright," Alex grumbled. "Alright, okay? You make a good case and morbid curiosity is getting the best of me. But what should I wear?" She sat up and looked at him. "Or better yet, what is that you're wearing?"

He was wearing a sequined jacket over a rainbow Pride shirt and rainbow sequin trousers.

"It's on theme," he said. "And you will be too. Let's get you in some flannel."

...

They waited in Sarah Jane's garden just after nightfall, breath curling into clouds in the cold February air.

"I hope they hurry," Alex said, shivering.

Just then, the TARDIS began to materialize. They waited patiently while the Doctor came to the door.

"Look at the state of you two!" he complained. "You're not at all dressed for this occasion!"

"What's that you're wearing, then?" Alex asked, raising her eyebrows.

"It's called a t-shirt and jeans, Alexia," he said, exasperated.

"I more meant what's that on your head?"

And it was on theme. On that day, the Doctor was wearing black jeans, a black shirt with a green alien on it, and a black leather jacket. The best part of this ensemble was a green top hat with a black ribbon upon which little green men were painted.

"It's on theme," he said. "Which is more than I can say for either of you."

"What do you mean?" Jack asked. "I'll have you know I got this shirt at New York City Pride!"

"And I'm wearing flannel!" Alex protested. "What more could you want?"

"You're just so clueless, it's laughable," the Doctor shook his head. "So Ginger was right. The invitations were too vague. Oh well, in any case, I prepared for this and laid out some alternate clothes for you."

...

"Doc, what's going on here?" Alex asked, as they entered the holodeck. "I'm starting to get the idea that there's an alien theme."

The holedeck had been transformed for this occasion into a small, dingy ballroom. Every square inch of the place was decked out in chrome, with various spots of blue and green fabrics. Hanging around in clumps were green balloons with little black alien faces drawn on in sharpie.

"I think I'll let Ginger explain," he said. "But that reminds me - I've got to go fetch her. She's got to make a dramatic entrance and I'm so excited to show her what I did with the holodeck! Oh, almost forgot! Put on your party hats!"

He stuck tin foil hats on both of their heads and skipped off.

"Alright, I think it's time to ask what the hell is going on," Alex said, mystified.

...

The Doctor knocked on Ginger's door. "Alright, everyone's here, are you ready?"

She opened the door and stepped out into the light. "Obviously!"

He looked her over, a slow grin spreading over his face. "Someone had fun with the theme, I see."

"I've been waiting all my life for this theme," she said, seriously. "And now I get to embrace it."

He pulled a length of green ribbon from his jacket pocket.

"What's that for?" she asked, curiously.

"Blindfolding you," he said, simply. "So you can have the dramatic reveal when you see what I've done with the holodeck."

"You're not blindfolding me," she said, crossing her arms.

"You still don't trust me?"

"That's not it," she said. "It took me 15 minutes to get my eye makeup right."

"Fair enough." Then he had an idea. "Give me your glasses."

...

The Doctor came back into the room and started the music with a dramatic flourish. "Ladies and gentlemen!" he shouted. "Nighttime has stopped! Bring on the aliens!" He slid out of the way like a disco dancer as Ginger entered. "May I present: Ginger!"

Alex and Jack saw the theme obviously applied to her as well. She was wearing a green shimmery tube top and matching short skirt. Her customary leggings were black and covered with little green men, and her customary boots were replaced with black go-go boots with green aliens on them as well. She was also wearing a purple pleather jacket and a headband that made it look as if she had alien antennae springing from her head. Her eyes were rimmed with bright green makeup that matched her lipstick.

"And now, Ginger, may I present to you - the world!" The Doctor replaced her glasses on her head and she gasped, looking around in wonder at the tacky design.

"It's beautiful," she said. "It's completely hideous, but in that way I like. I love it! I would cry, but-"

"Your eye makeup took 15 minutes," he finished for her.

She smiled at him and then noticed Jack and Alex. She hurried forward to greet them. "You came!" she grinned. "I love your hats! So retro!"

"I like your necklace," Alex said. "What is that anyway? Like an alien embryo?"

"Hm?" She reached up and clutched it. "Oh this thing? Doc made it for me ages ago. It's not really on theme, I just like it."

"It looks a like a Sour Patch Kid," Jack said.

"Her name is Candy," Ginger replied. "Oh but look at you two! Alex, that Nasa t-shirt is amazing! And Jack, embracing the whole 80s shoulder pad look in green leather!"

"That's not so impressive," the Doctor said. "Take a look at my jacket." He turned around to show everyone the green alien that had been bedazzled on the back.

Ginger squealed. "That is so cool! I'm almost-"

"Jealous?" he smirked. "Yeah I knew this is your style. So it's my coming out gift to you, when the party's over. Speaking of the party, have you seen the buffet table yet?"

They walked over and Ginger gasped. "Alien pancakes?" The Doctor had used food coloring to make green pancakes shaped like alien heads and had used chocolate chips to make the face. "They're perfect! And cosmic brownies! Props for using Moon Pies - I'm not a big fan of them, but they're on theme so I approve!"

"What is going on here?" Alex asked. "I'm so confused."

Ginger exchanged an excited look with the Doctor.

"Not before we have something to toast with," the Doctor said.

"Doc, did you get Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters?" Ginger asked.

"I've told you before, you wouldn't like that. But there is something I know you will like." He pulled a bottle from under the table and popped the cork. He started pouring drinks for all of them.

"Wine?" Alex asked, when he handed her a glass.

"Don't be silly," the Doctor said. "Ginger doesn't like wine. She only sips it to make herself seem grown up, like when she orders a coffee instead of a cocoa. This is sparkling grape juice."

Ginger squealed excitedly. "I love sparkling grape juice!"

He gazed at her fondly. "I know."

"Is someone going to tell us what's going on?" Alex asked, exasperated.

"Can I tell them now?" Ginger asked, hopping up and down.

"Go ahead," the Doctor encouraged.

"The great poet Brandon Flowers once posed an existential question for the ages," Ginger said, evidently having practiced this speech. "He asked, 'are we human or are we dancer?' I, like so many of my contemporaries, have waited on my knees looking for the answer. And now, after roughly 23 years of searching, I have found it. The great truth is...I am not human. Nor am I dancer, as it happens."

"You may have noticed," the Doctor said. "That I gave the two of you tin foil hats and garb that is indicative of space obsessed humanity. It is in this way that I hoped to subtly create two groups."

Ginger looked at him, eyes wide. "Oh my God, why didn't I think of that? That's genius!"

"Skip ahead to the part where you tell us what's happening," Alex said, impatiently.

Ginger laughed excitedly. "Those of you with the tin foil hats are humans! Which makes the Doctor and I aliens. This is my way of coming out...as an alien."

"An illegal alien?" Jack asked.

"I mean, that too," she rolled her eyes. "Guess who just found out she's not human!" She pointed at her chest with her thumbs. "This girl!"

"What?" Jack and Alex said together.

Ginger pulled a pocket watch from her jacket. "This fob watch was left on me by my birth parents when they abandoned me! I always joked that maybe it was some secret language telling me I'm a 'certified prince', but this is better!"

"The letters are Gallifreyan," the Doctor said. "I knew instantly. That's part of a machine that converts Time Lords to humans. If you open the watch, you revert back to Time Lord biology."

"That's the Cliff Notes version, yeah," Ginger grinned.

"Wow," Alex said, taking a sip of her sparkling grape juice. "So Kira was right all along."

"You know, this all makes too much sense," Jack said. "It explains everything about you. You're a Time Lord."

Ginger and the Doctor both cringed.

"Oooh no, I don't know about that," Ginger said.

"Sorry, is Time Lady the preferred term?" Jack asked.

"Time Person?" Alex offered. "Or maybe simply 'Gallifreyan'?"

"No, no, it's not about the terminology," the Doctor said.

"I just don't know that I'm ready to identify as something yet," Ginger said.

"Oh this again," Jack rolled his eyes. "You're having a coming out party and you're not ready to identify."

"I'm just not sure I want to be part of a group," Ginger said. "I never really felt human, true. But even now when I feel close to understanding my heritage, I don't quite think I fit. Earth didn't want me, but Gallifrey didn't either. I might decide one day to identify as one or the other, but for now I'd like to be an individual. No alliances. Impartial. Just Ginger, but if you must then you can call me an alien."

"Alright, so it's time to toast!" the Doctor said, raising his glass. "On the count of 3, everyone say 'Astro Projector'!"

Jack and Ginger giggled as they said the phrase and clinked glasses with the others, but Alex was just confused. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Jack, you're culturally neglecting this child," Ginger chastised him. "Not knowing her B-52's!"

"Speaking of the B-52's!" the Doctor said. "Jack, did we tell you we met them recently?"

"And you didn't invite me?" Jack said, indignantly. "Some ally you are!"

"The song Planet Claire is about me," Ginger giggled, proudly.

"There is no way that's true," he said.

"And on that note, it's time for another surprise!" the Doctor said. "Ginger, while you weren't looking I lined up some musical entertainment for the night!"

"What, like I'm suddenly not good enough?" she teased.

"You're gonna like this," he assured her. He rushed across the room to a stage where a few microphones were set up. "I got the perfect band to perform at your coming out party."

"Queen?" Alex asked.

"If this were a gay coming out party, then I 100% would," the Doctor said. "But since this is an alien coming out party, I asked our good friends the B-52's to join us!"

"You realize that would also be a good band for a gay coming out party, right?" Jack asked.

"Be that as it may," the Doctor said. "Ginger, I knew no party of yours would be complete without a little 80s or 90s entertainment! This band I'm presenting to you tonight is an 80s band, yes, but I plucked them right from 1998 so they count as both!"

He hopped off the stage as the band came on. "How's everyone doing tonight?" Kate Pierson asked.

"How did you do this?" Ginger asked the Doctor, in awe.

"They owed us," the Doctor said. "And Kate said she'd do it for you."

"I could cry."

"Don't be silly," he said. "You'll ruin your eye makeup."

"And you're not going to tell anyone, right?"

"What? That you hadn't even heard of the B-52's until Scooby Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed? I'd never reveal your eternal shame. Unless you provoked me in front of Jack, then maybe."

"Oh God, if he found out I'd lose all credibility!" she said in mock despair, not quite pulling it off because she couldn't stop smiling.

"This first song is for our biggest fan," Fred said, from the stage now that the instruments had been set up. "In 1978, Ginger saved the world and gave us the idea for one of our biggest hits. This is for you."

The first chords of 'Planet Claire' began, and Ginger looked smugly at Jack. "What did I tell you?"

"I guess you did," Jack said. "Hey, I've got it! You don't want to be Gallifreyan or human! Why don't you be from Planet Claire?"

"You're a genius," she said. "Completely brilliant!"

"Oh no," Jack said.

"What?" asked Alex, alarmed.

"What's this strange feeling?" he asked, beginning to move his arms. "I think it's the urge to dance!"

"Please don't," Alex said, trying not to laugh.

But it was too late, he was already dancing. He turned to Ginger. "Come on, Debbie, Queen of the Underground, won't you come in for a landing?"

"You know that song is about Debbie Harry, right?" Ginger laughed out loud.

"It's applicable," he grinned. "Come on, I'm trying to tell you to dance that mess around!" He grabbed her hand and pulled her into a spin.

"Alright, alright!" she said. "Just this once! Because it's the B-52's! Doc's gotta dance too!"

"Way ahead of you!" he replied, dancing past them.

...

Jack took a break from dancing when 'Summer of Love' was playing and joined Alex back by the drinks.

"So how's it going, kiddo?" he asked.

"You know," she said, shaking her head. "If this were a party for literally anything else, this would be the saddest thing ever. Tacky theme, weird choice of snacks, and only 4 people. But I've honestly never seen the two of them so happy." She nodded her head at the Doctor and Ginger. "So it's...kind of the best party I've ever been to? I'm actually pretty glad I came. Something about them being so happy...and the music being so happy...it's kind of...contagious? I don't know how to explain it."

"Yeah," Jack said, still looking at the Doctor and Ginger. "The two of them are actually not that bad together, are they?"

"They're kinda cute," Alex said. "Why are you being weird, though?"

Just then, the song ended and Cindy Wilson stepped up to the microphone. "Now we open it up to any requests by the lady of the hour! Ginger, is there anything you'd like to hear tonight?"

Ginger was gasping for air - she hadn't done this much dancing even when she was in musical theatre. "Hallucinating Pluto!" she said, after a moment's deliberation.

"Groovy!" Kate said, as they launched into it.

"Alex, come on up here!" Ginger shouted, beckoning to her. "Dance with us!"

"Oh I don't-"

"Me neither, but it's the B-52's and you're a gay so you're not too cool for this! Come on now!"

She shook her head, bemused. "Fine," she threw her hands up in surrender. "But I don't know the words."

"This chorus is simple, you'll figure it out."

...

After that song, the band started playing 'Private Idaho' and Ginger had to finally take a break to get a drink. Alex went with her and they both chuckled at seeing the Doctor and Jack still out there dancing like idiots.

"So what's next?" Alex asked.

"Whatcha mean?"

"I mean for you. You've just found out you're an alien and you're suddenly fine with everything? You gonna try to find your parents? Get some answers?"

"I've got my answers," she said, simply. "I was an unwanted baby shipped here because I was born in a stigmatized way. I don't really need to know my parents beyond that fact. That doesn't feel relevant to me. I just want to live my life, unburdened with some parental expectation of me." She took a swig from a bottle of water. "God, it's hot in here." She took off her jacket and put it on the table. That's when Alex noticed it.

"Your scars," she said. "They're gone."

"Yeah, pretty neat, eh?" Ginger grinned. "Happened when my biology reset itself. Now I'm all healed."

"And I've just noticed," Alex peered closer at her. "Your hair is longer again. It's been 3 days for me, how long's it been for you that you're out here lookin' a bit Shirley Manson?"

Ginger's eyes got wide. "Wait, did you just reference Garbage?"

"Yeah, might've done," she shrugged. "What of it? You and Doc do all the time, why shouldn't I?"

"Because you've never shown an interest in that kind of stuff," Ginger said.

"I might've gotten to looking recently into some of the bands you talk about," she admitted. "I was bored. Needed something new. I don't really understand all of it, but I did really like Garbage."

"I've literally never been more impressed with you."

"I actually have a question, though. What is it with all the 80s and 90s stuff? Why do you like those years better than anything else?"

"That's a tricky question," Ginger admitted. "I like 80s because it was like THE era of LGBT music and it's just comforting to think back to a time when I wasn't alive yet so have no bad memories. Like you've got the B-52's who are so fun and quirky that you don't have to pretend to be cool."

"But the 90s? I've noticed that's, like, your entire thing. I was born in 98 so I don't remember the 90s at all."

"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard," Ginger said, sympathetically. "And I once watched a YouTube clip of Ashlee Simpson singing at the Orange Bowl. Oh I shouldn't joke, that was mean. Sure it was a terrible performance, but I'm convinced they made her do that show just to humiliate her, poor thing."

"But the 90s?" Alex reminded her.

"Oh right, got off track. I don't know what it is, really, because my life was never really..Things were still hard for me in the 90s, but I didn't understand any of it. I just completely immersed myself in the culture. It was comforting. It kept me distracted from all the things that went wrong. After 9/11, the world completely changed. Started having to face things. It's always been much easier just to exist in the 90s."

"Maybe that's where you're from," Alex said. "Not from Earth or Gallifrey, but from the 90s."

"I like the way you think, kid," Ginger said. "So how are you, anyway?"

"I'm good," Alex lied.

"Sure you are," Ginger said. "Have you not heard from Kira?" Alex shrugged, so Ginger sighed. "I'm sorry about that. I feel like, maybe, I'm partially responsible for that."

Alex was surprised. "You? Why?"

"Back when I was human, I used to say all kinds of melodramatic emo stuff. I'm not saying all of it was untrue, but most of it was not applicable to you. It was unfair for me to assume that the things that are true for me would be in any way helpful to you. And I hope you didn't take any of it as advice. I was mixed up back then, and I regret if I planted doom and gloom ideas in your head."

Alex thought about this. "I appreciate that. And actually, I've been thinking about it. I really care a lot about Kira. So so so much. But I don't know if we're right for each other. We're just really different people. I'd just hate to lose her as a friend just because of this."

"Then I guess you should talk to her about it."

"Alright!" Fred said, breaking them from their conversation. "Last song of the evening!"

They began playing 'Love Shack'.

"But not now!" Ginger said, pulling Alex back onto the dance floor. "You've gotta dance along to this one!"

Alex laughed. "Believe it or not, I actually know some of the words to this one."

"I'd be worried if you didn't!"

...

The song reached its last verse.

"Bang, bang, bang on the door baby!"

"I can't hear you!"

"Bang, bang, bang, on the door, baby!"

"I still can't hear you!" Fred shouted. "You know what, I think something's missing! We need another voice, or it won't be loud enough!"

"I think you're right, Fred," Kate said. "We can't do this alone!"

"My voice is nearly shot!" Cindy despaired. "I don't think I'll be able to sing the tin roof part!"

"Ginger, why don't you come up and help us?" Kate asked.

"Me?" Ginger asked, laughing in disbelief. "I can't possibly."

"Ginger, you're our only hope!" Fred pleaded.

She shook her head, grinning from ear to ear. "Alright! Yeah, I'll do it!"

"Groovy!" Cindy said. "Get up here!"

"All together now, ladies!" Fred said, as Ginger too her place by Kate's microphone.

"Bang, bang, bang on my door, baby! Bang bang!" Ginger sang with the other two girls.

"On the door, baby!"

"Bang bang!"

"On the door!"

"Bang bang!"

"You're what?"

Now it was Ginger's turn. "TIN ROOF! Rusted!"

...

The Doctor and Jack took the B-52's back to 1998 while Alex got started eating pancakes. Ginger still had too much energy, so she was dancing to random music that played overhead. The holodeck was synced to her, so it was just playing her kind of jams.

"It's weird seeing you so happy," Alex teased. "You might want to tone it down a bit. It's getting creepy."

"Gotta get all my happy out now," Ginger did a twirl. "Then I'll be normal again."

"You've never exactly been normal," Jack said as he and the Doctor returned.

"I just still feel like singing," Ginger said. "Could go for some karaoke."

"What are you feeling like?" the Doctor asked. "The TARDIS will generate a karaoke for you."

"Surprisingly, not a B-52's," she admitted.

"Got that out of your system, now, have you?" Jack asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Ida Maria, maybe?"

"Like what?" asked the Doctor.

"Like..." When she started singing, the music changed instantly to match. "Whiskey please, I need some Whiskey please..."

"Someone's in a really good mood," the Doctor grinned as she carried on with the song, spinning and forcing them all to sing at various points.

"I'm Queen of the world
I bump into things
I spin around in circles
And I'm singing, and I'm singing I'm singing
Why can't I stay like this?
Dear God.
Let me be young
Let me stay, please
Oh let me stay like this forever..."

She ended the song by collapsing into an exhilarated heap by the buffet table and just looking the most content she'd ever been in her life.

"God, I love music," Ginger said, hoarsely. "Only music could make me feel better than any drug ever could."

"Careful," the Doctor cautioned. "Don't start saying you'll get high on the music. You look exhausted, you don't need to launch into Katy Rose."

She chuckled. "I suppose." She extended a hand and let him help her to her feet. They grinned at each other for entirely too long afterwards.

"Alright," Alex said, torn between feeling smug that they looked so cute and sad that she didn't have someone to be cute with. "Before you guys get to snogging, I think we need to be dropped off at home. Got school in the morning."

"So you're feeling up to going tomorrow?" Jack asked.

"Yeah," she replied. "I'm not 100% yet, but I think I'm feeling a lot better."

"This was actually pretty cool for a lame party," Jack said.

"Yeah," Ginger agreed. "I'm sorry I gave you no real notice about it. I just wanted to get it out of the way and, well, I don't think capitalism should be able to tell us we can't have a party on a Thursday night."

"Told you," Jack said to Alex.

"Can I ask a question, actually?" Alex said to Ginger and the Doctor. She gestured to the various decorations. "Isn't all this vaguely offensive to you guys? Like a negative stereotype? Especially for you, Ginger, who is annoyed by literally everything."

Ginger and the Doctor exchanged a look. "Nah, not really," they said, together.

"It would bother me more if it weren't such a cute aesthetic, honestly," Ginger shrugged. "Maybe that makes me problematic, but I can't help but dig it."