Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Inside her head...

The brain is a delicate thing.

The pleasure gardens will now take visitors

If this happens again, we might have to review our brainstem policy.

Straight to the point, whiskers. I want money.

Helps m'lady. Soothes her.

This building is under quarantine.

One touch and you get every disease in the world.

- What the hell have you done? -It wasn't me.

I could do with a little work. Although...

- And what should we do with the patient? -Standard procedure. Incinerate.

They evolved, Cassandra, they just evolved. Like they should.

Now, listen. When I say so, take hold of that lever.

- Up! Look at me. No sign of infection. -Champagne, sir?

I'm in here! Come on!

A shop does some people the world of good. Not me, other people.

- You're the one working. -There's not much to do.

But I've not been idle, Rose. Tucked away, underneath this hospital,

That psycho-graft is banned on every civilised planet.

I'm the Doctor and I cured them.

- You had petrifold regression, right? -"Had" being the operative word.

And if you don't like it, if you want to take it to a higher authority, there isn't one.

How on New Earth, you might say.

Go to him. Go. That's it. That's it.

But we're gonna die if... Ow!

- So where are we going? -Further than we've ever gone before.

Just to confirm...

- Is that a deal? -I'm afraid not.

What do you mean?

What do you think you're doing?

The Sisterhood has sworn to help.

You're completely mad. I can see why she likes you.

- How long does it take to get to ward 26? -I'm on my way, guv'nor.