Oh, sure, you bury me in some dusty corner of your brain for years an' neglect me in favour of all these time-travellin' nitwits - like I 'aven't got enough o' those to deal with as it is - but after one morning spent crawling through the darkest recesses o' the internet, you're sobbing over pictures of me an' Drake an' going on about your feelings. You're such a bloody girl.

Forget about 'avin' my voice down, sweetheart, you 'aven't got the balls to accurately portray the Gene Genie. And I do mean that literally.