Martha shrugged, with a wicked grin on her face. "I have no idea. But that kind of money would be tempting. Though, the fact that most of my life back home was classified would be a bit of a drawback." And then she blinked, surprised, before breaking into loud laughter. "God, no. She's a glamour model in the UK. Got famous for posing on page 3 when she was young and having loads of plastic surgery. Made her a multi millionaire." Several times over.
She took a sip of the lemonade, the ice clinking in the glass as she tried to figure out how best to describe them. "Aliens that exist in machines that want to wipe out most of the galaxy," she shrugged again. "That's the short version anyway." She did just hope that no matter what turned up, someone would know how to deal. So far they'd been lucky, but eventually there would be casualties.
"That's what I like to hear," she smirked. "People shouldn't lose out because they technically don't exist and Americans don't have an NHS like we do."