"Nah, I've never been particularly good with Christmas," he said. "Always did enjoy it, but never quite understood it. Yates always told me I was a bit too alien."
He looked over to the creature, the one that still looked like Donna. He wondered, privately, what she was doing right now. Was she celebrating? Hiding from a hangover?
"Besides, nobody wants a strange man showing up on their Christmas, do they?"