“What about…” Toshiko paced slowly as she thought.  “How about a sort of…do-do-do-do-dooo.”

“Tosh, love, nobody, but nobody, uses do-do-do-do-dooo anymore.”

Toshiko stared blankly at Owen for a moment.

“Why not?”

“You honestly need an answer?  Do-do-do-do-dooo?”

“Well, not if you do it like that.”

“How about…  Do-do-do-d’do-daaaaah!”

Toshiko and Owen exchanged a bemused look before turning their gaze on Gwen.

“No,” Owen said grimly.

“Why not?”

“We’re not a fucking brass band, that’s why not.  You want to do trumpet impressions, in your own time, all right?”

“Ianto?” Gwen appealed.

“Don’t drag me into the backing, I’m still working on the lyrics.  Speaking of which…do you think people will empathise with a space whale, or should we go for something representative of its plight, something more accessible?  Something, for want of a better word…fluffy?”

“Fluffy?  Fluffy!”  Owen threw up his hands in despair.  “We’re Torchwood, we’re hard.”

Toshiko crossed to Ianto’s side and studied what he’d written so far.

“This is…  Frankly, it reads as if you’re stoned.”

“That’s my problem.  The minute you mention space whale…”

“And that’s not even a word.”

Ianto frowned.

“It’s Welsh.”

“You could make up anything and say it’s Welsh, I don’t believe you for a moment.  Gwen?”

Gwen looked at the lyrics and nodded sagely.

“Welsh, yes,” she agreed with authority before exchanging a what the fuck look with Ianto behind Toshiko’s back.

“I didn’t say it was good Welsh,” Ianto muttered under his breath.

“This is hopeless,” Owen sighed.

“What’s hopeless?” Jack asked as he rode down on the invisible lift.

“The song.”

Jack frowned at Owen.

“Song?”

“We could release a single?” Gwen reminded him.

“Ianto was joking!  He was joking.  You were joking, right?  Ianto?”

“What rhymes with atrocity?”

“Ferocity?” Toshiko suggested.  “Although…  If you used inhumanity, it would rhyme with Manatee, and that whale was practically…”

“Fluffy,” Ianto insisted.  “Think fluffy.”

“Fluffy atrocity?” Jack asked.

Ianto glared.

“You’re not helping, Jack.  Go and put the kettle on, eh?”

Without question, Jack turned on his heel and headed for the kitchen.

“Tell you what you need,” he called back over his shoulder.  “Some backing.  Do-do-do-do-dooo,” he sang with hearty enthusiasm.  “Do-do-do-d’do-daaaaah!”

“That’s it,” Ianto snapped, slamming his laptop shut without saving his masterpiece.

“Ohhh,” chorused Gwen and Toshiko in disappointment.

“Yeah,” Owen agreed with Ianto.  “Good call.”

More protestations from the ladies swiftly followed.  Owen refused to budge.

“Well, don’t blame us, blame Jack.  It was going really well until he came in and ruined it.”