How long have we known each other, dear friend? Centuries? Nearly a millennia? And yet it seems but a short time, truly. And through all that has happened, I truly believe I can say that it was really all your fault. I mean really, was it entirely necessary to foil all my plans? I don't see anything particularly detestable about holding the universe for ransom. It is all most distressing, but I do forgive you for it. You are, I suppose, only doing what you think is right.

It certainly is admirable of you, gallivanting around in that beat up old jalopy you call a TARDIS, righting the wrongs of the universe, always one step ahead of anyone who goes up against you. Do you ever get tired of always being right? Of course you don't. It's very attractive in a way, I suppose. Surely, that's what pulls all of those people you call companions to you. I don't get companions. I teamed up with the Daleks, a bad idea if there ever was one. Genocidal maniacs. No sense of art or theatrics at all. And the Rani, but I prefer not to speak of those occasions. They tended toward the painful. No, I travel alone.

And you've always been there…in my life that is. We used to be friends, didn't we, when we were younger? There's something very dramatic in that. Childhood friends, and now I try to kill you every time we meet. Wait, no…I only tried to kill you once, and I do so apologize for that! You see, I was in a very bad place that day. No more regenerations left. A shattered, charred husk of a Time Lord. You'll forgive the homicidal mood. It was wrong.

And besides that, what would I do if I actually killed you? A universe without the Doctor? It barely merits thinking. I could never destroy you. You are my greatest love. Or my greatest hate. I'm not sure, and I do not believe it matters. Attractive forces and all, and if I killed you, you wouldn't be forced to tasted the glorious taste of defeat. You wouldn't be aware for the rest of your existence that, basically, I won.

Not that I often win, except that one time with the Toclafane, which you reversed with some plan that I swear you pulled out of your…nevermind. I'm just jealous, is all. I didn't even know Time Lords were psychic. Of course, who am I to talk? I came back from the dead, and suddenly I could blast lightning. And jump. Can we really call that little escapade on either side of victory or loss? Rassilon foiled my plot, and I saved your life. A draw maybe?

Speaking of that, don't think for one second that I'm through, oh no. You really think being stuck in the Time War with a group of royally peeved Time Lords will stop me? I've died in fires. I've been tossed into the Eye of Harmony. Once, I was stuck with that damned Rani with a rapidly growing T-Rex. I always return, my dear Doctor, and whether I'm cool and calculating, vengeful, bold and melodramatic, completely mental or, in one regratable instance, American (What was I even thinking? I can't get the taste of that one out of my head), one thing is, has been, and always will be true.

I am the Master, and you WILL obey me.