You couldn't have chosen an artsier, prettier place for a war: Hanging floral bouquets from the decorative street lamps fell flaming to the ground. In front of the expensive restaurants, flame licked from the showroom perfect, high end vehicles, filling the air with black smoke and the smell of burning tires. Demolished valet stations, decapitated statuary, ruined fountains. The blackened skeletons wore the latest in designer fashion.

Plaza security guys in bright orange vests hunkered down behind barricades with the police, probably wishing they had gun permits.

The police barricade had been set up near the site of a vehicular accident. It appeared as if, in their haste to escape the bunnies of death, a minivan had collided with an Impala, both vehicles totaled, facing each other, catty-corner, over a median, airbags deployed, doors hanging open.

On the van, no front tire or brake on the passenger side. An exposed radiator leaked onto the pavement, mingling with oil and other fluids from elsewhere. Someone had thrown down cat sand and yanked out the battery to prevent a fire. The Impala's rear end had been caved in.

The occupants, it seemed, survived the wreck, but then the Auton things had fried them with their laser beams.

The Doctor muttered something to the officers, and they turned their weapons away from me, focusing on our plastic foes.

I hurried to meet the woman. "What stuff are you referring to? The only thing I got from your message was that you were in trouble and you were in the Plaza. I brought stuff, but only for self defense." I held up the blaster. "I had a shield, but it got too banged up."

The Doctor frowned. "Did you realize it's scheduled to be overcast today?"

I could only shrug. "I didn't even know this was a real gun until I used it."

"That weapon burns up a lot of calories. You're going to be very hungry when all of this is over!"

"Tell me about it."

"Is that all you brought?"

I pulled the wristband thing out of my apron. "Haven't had much opportunity to mess with this...whatever it is."

"That is a Vortex Manipulator. Slightly more useful than that laser pistol, if you know how to use it." She glanced below my skirt. "You seem...hairier than when I saw you last...Did you know you have a tail?"

I reached behind my rear, shuddering when I discovered something flesh covered and scaly poking out. "I'm...having a growth spurt. Think it's from that clinical research place I went to. What do I do with this Manipulator thing?"

"It's complicated. A bit like my Sonic Screwdriver." She took the device, fiddling with some buttons and screens. "Push the center button to short circuit electronic devices, and hopefully Autons. Don't go wild with it, you could start a fire or cause dangerous machinery to backfire and injure you. I'll teach you some other functions when I have a bit more time."

I slipped it over my wrist. "Thank you."

The Doctor rubbed her forehead in frustration. "Unfortunately, this means we still lack suitable equipment for defeating the enemy."

"What happened to that device you used when you demolished my car?"

"It needed work...Then they destroyed it. We need the TARDIS."

She grabbed my arm, toggled more menus on the Vortex Manipulator, pushed a button.

Grinding, tearing noises filled the air, and I watched with astonishment as a Civil War cannon from the park materialized in front of the police barricade.

The officers fired a couple shots at it before Bernard shouted, "Hold your fire!"

The Doctor scowled at the screen. "That's not supposed to happen. I was trying to bring the TARDIS here!"

She cast me a suspicious look. "Did you...meddle with my time console in any way?"

"Uh...no?" I technically told the truth.

"Did you...tinker with any equipment? Play with the wiring, perhaps?"

"Uh..." I stammered. "I, uh...kinda shot a hole in the floor."

The Doctor groaned and smacked herself in the face. "That will be coming out of your salary." She put her hands on her hips. "I'm afraid we may need to improvise."

She navigated through menus, making a map of the Plaza appear on the Manipulator.

I thought I had my rat lady' problem under control by then. I thought the hairy legs, the growing teeth and tail had been receding, but no. My tail kept ruffling the back of my skirt, and, without warning, I had another blackout.

When I came to, I found Doc staring at me in concern, saying words my brain didn't register.

She offered me a green and purple spotted inhaler. "Here. Take a puff of this. It'll control your mutation."

I stared at the object, speaking in lisps due to my immense rat incisors. "What's this?"

"Something to counteract your...other medication. Do you know how to use an inhaler?"

"Uh...maybe?"

She held it out. "Use it, please."

"No way! I'm not going to just take some random person's medication!"

She opened her mouth to say something, but I blurted, "Look, I don't care if you call yourself a doctor! Right now, you've only proven yourself a physician in name only, like Doctor No, Doctor Strange, or Doctor Feel Good. Doctor Pepper has more credentials than you do!"

Doc showed me a piece of white paper in a leather wallet. "There. Does this help any?"

"No. Why would blank paper help your case?"

Herr face visibly reddened. "That's psychic paper. I forgot it doesn't work on people who know who I am."

"I got a decoder ring that has the same exact problem."

She scoffed. "I just injected you with a non-aerosol version of the same substance, and it made your rat symptoms diminish, so..."

Swallowing, I took the device from her. The moment I took a puff, she advised me to hold it in for five counts, but I just held up a hand for her to be quiet.

"I didn't know you had asthma!"

I exhaled. "You didn't ask."

I readied the inhaler for another dose, but she snatched it out of my hand. "It's not asthma medication. You can stop now...Thanks for clearing a path through those Autons, by the way. Unfortunately I didn't have much to offer you besides that granola bar. You...jumped into the dumpster behind Potbellies and gorged yourself on stale hoagies."

"You're welcome." I wiped crumbs from my dress. "No wonder I had that weird waking dream about eating croutons!"

I'd traveled a few blocks during the blackout. We now stood at the corner of the Capital Grille, with its Spanish facade and chrome lion statues. Across the street lay Seasons 52, with their fancy sculpture fountain, and, down Broadway a bit, all those fancy hotels. Didn't see any bunnies.

I cringed as a squatty woman in a gaudy floral print blouse, crocs and leather stretch pants waddled up to me.

"Hey, friend!" the voice reflected a lifetime of chain smoking.

African American, less than five feet in height, wrinkly frog-like face a weirdly orange tint. Oh yes, I knew her.

I pretended like the woman wasn't there.

"I said hi, friend!"

Doc stared at the woman in amazement. "That is one lucky woman."

Certain people are too annoying to die by ordinary means. It's like they made a secret pact with the Devil to keep them alive and mooching off people until the end of the world. Everyone you ever cared about, they'll definitely die, but others...

I scoffed. "Define lucky."

"Do you...know this person?""

"Unfortunately."

I couldn't tell her anything more, because Liz was now within earshot, and things could get unpleasant.

The short woman pawed all over my arm, played with my tail.

I shuddered, pushing her off. "Liz, I'm busy right now. Why don't you go somewhere else?" As an afterthought, I added, "Where it's safe?"

She smiled. "You're such a kidder! It's safe right here. Can I please have a twenty?"

I wouldn't give Liz a twenty if I had one. "Sorry. It's in...my other dress."

"Can you go back to your place and get it? I really need twenty dollars."

"No. I'm very busy."

Unfamiliar with Liz's scheming, Doc gave her a look of pity, and me a look indicating that I should actually give money to the woman.

Liz showed me a sorry excuse for a cel phone, with a cracked screen, a rainbow of blocky lines flickering where the normal phone buttons should be. "I dropped my phone, and a truck rolled over it. Look at that screen. You're smart, tell me, do you think I can take it somewhere and get it fixed?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, it's a little too far gone—"

"I've got some tools in my TARDIS," Doc said.

Liz had an expression on her face like she knew all about the TARDIS. "I don't like Target. Too expensive. Maybe if you give me a twenty, I can go up to Family Dollar and see if they can get me a new phone."

"I said TARDIS.' It's my spaceship. The acronym means Time and Relative Dimensions in Space.' I have some tools in there that I can use to fix your phone."

Liz had a puzzled look on her face, like Math is too hard.' "Ma'am, you're confusing me. Did you say you have something to fix my phone, or not?"

"We did." I crossed my arms, restraining my temper. "Look, ma'am. This place is very dangerous. Why don't you run along, or go hang out with those nice police officers up by the bookstore, where it's safe?"

Liz only glanced up the street and frowned. "Talked to them already. None of them want to help me, or want to fix my phone. You see, what I really need is bus fare, to get to KU Hospital by three P.M. for my daughter's operation, and it's already two already..."

As we talked, a gang of fiberglass bunnies came marching down the block.

I pointed. "Ma'am, in case you didn't notice, there's an army of things shooting lasers out their eyes and killing people. I don't have the time or the transportation to get you where you need to go."

Liz acted like I hadn't said anything. "How about twenty dollars then?"

"I already told you I don't have twenty dollars."

"I've seen you wearing an outfit like that before and it had money in it."

You know it's bad when they know where you keep your money. "Well I'm telling you I don't!"

"Then take me around the corner. There's an ATM on 39th street, and you can get me the twenty from a machine."

"39th street! That's halfway across town!"

"I need money for bus fare."

"I'm not taking you anywhere. There's a war going on, people are dying!" I kept pointing at the bunnies, who even now turned and came marching our way with their eyes blazing. "Look at those things! I tell you, you're not safe here!"

Liz, with a dull, cow-like expression on her face, stared in that direction. No reaction to her impending doom. "Please! Can't you please give me twenty dollars and take me to the bus stop?"

"Promise I'll pay you back." She flashed a piece of plastic. "Look. You can keep my driver's license until I have the money to pay you."

I secretly wished she'd get vaporized. "Ma'am, I don't want your ID. I'm telling you I can't just drop what I'm doing and take you to an ATM on 39th street! I don't even have a car! The bunny things destroyed it!"

"Don't make up stories. You had to get here somehow." She wrapped her arms around me. "Oh please please please please please! My daughter is in the hospital! She's just gotten into an accident and she's going to get her leg amputated. She doesn't have any clothes on account of the paramedics cutting them off, all she's got is a hospital gown. I need twenty and a ride to the bus stop so I can get her clothes for a ride home from KU."

"I'm sorry, no. I have my own problems right now, and I can't go all the way to that ATM for you!"

"Please?"

"No."

"Pleeeaaase!"

"No!"

She showed me her driver's license again. "You can keep it until I can pay you back. I promise I'll pay you back. Please go to the ATM on 39th street and get me twenty dollars."

"Not just no, hell no!"

Liz cast the Doctor a hopeful look. "Ma'am, I don't know what's gotten into my friend. Normally he's so sweet and kind and helps people out when they're in need. I really, really need help. It's getting later, and I have to meet my daughter at the hospital at three. Can't you please, please give me a twenty so I can pay for the bus ride across town?"

Doc gave me this look like I were a horrible person who cared nothing for the poor. That's how Liz operates. By gaslighting you.

Doc fell for it. "I'm so sorry about your daughter!" She handed the woman some money. "Take this twenty, now be safe and get out of here as quickly as you can!"

Liz grinned as she stuffed it into her cleavage. "Thank you, thank you, oh, thank you Jesus!...Do you have a phone I can borrow so I can call my daughter at the hospital and tell her I got the money and I'm on my way?"

Doc gave me that disappointed look again.

I groaned and let Liz use my cell.

"Yes, honey, hold on. I got the twenty dollars. I'll be over there as soon as I can. I just need to get you some clothes for the ride home...I'll ask them." She made the phone conversation loud, for our benefit. The next thing she did: Turn to face us with an expectant look. "My daughter needs new clothes, can I please have twenty dollars?"

"No," I said.

"I just gave you twenty dollars," said the Doctor.

"That was for the bus ride. This is for my daughter. She doesn't have any clothes."

I scoffed. "So you actually want forty dollars."

"No, I never asked you for forty dollars. I only asked twenty."

"But you have twenty."

"That's for me. This is for my daughter."

"But then we'd still be giving you a total of forty dollars."

"No, I'm only asking for twenty!" And then she apologized to (presumably) her daughter about how we were being unreasonable, and she promised she'd get her some new clothing at Dollar Tree. Again, loud enough for us to hear, so we could get the full effect of her performance.

"If she really your friend?" the Doctor whispered to me.

"No."

Obviously, this exchange took a whole lot of time, and made a whole lot of noise. We now had animated fiberglass bunnies charging after us from both ends of the street. A blast shot right over Liz's head, an inch from her scalp, but she still acted like nothing were there.

In fact, she kept talking on the phone. The laser blasts whipped harmlessly around her as she leaned over the phone and/or turned at the precise moment the fiberglass rabbits fired at her. Like I said, people like her have a contract with the Prince of Darkness.

I, on the other hand, now had a smoking hole in my skirt, and my left Mary Jane just caught on fire.