"Yeah, I guess," Donna shrugged at the first part, looking up from her food in time to catch the second part and add, "'No bloody birds trying to eat us?' is the better question, especially since the answer is a great big hell no."

A calm evening without monsters or taunting. That would be a good evening, and even then good was the only word that could be used. Stepping up to something like great or fan-freaking-tastic would need to involve the TARDIS and hopefully Landel getting tossed off a cliff. Or something to that effect.

"And how'd your day treat you?"