"I have a dog. Dogs can't eat tinsel." John says, glancing up at Q and frowning like he's upset he's got to be the responsible person in the room suddenly. "Why do you hate Chas?" He plucks out a light that's got bent up innards and pushes a new one into the slot. The string lights up like it never had any problems in the first place, all merry and festive. Wanker.