Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Put the bunt into the slack of the clews.
- True. -Mmm-hmm.
Without a plane to lock onto we're not going anywhere.
- Sensors? -Yes.
What's wrong?
Oh, my God.
He's my son.
- Wheel? -Atom accelerator.
She's not a doxy.
- What's wrong? -Man wounded.
- Show me. Weigh anchor. Make it sail! -And the gun's back.
She leaves a mark on men's skin.
How can two ships be in the same place?
Actually, I think you'll find she isn't. We have to leave. Right now.
He means the armoury, where the powder's stored.
Please wake up.
Come on. I barely even scratched him. What are you all in such a huff about?
Broadcast in our world.
Help me get him up?
- Anaesthetic. - What?
He can't breathe. Turn it back on.
Where are the rest of the crew? This is a big ship, big for five of you.
Where are we?
- No! No! - No!
"Grab yourself a parrot. Welcome aboard."
Amy! Amy.
Not the same. Two planes, two worlds.
Go and get the crown from the storeroom.
There are worse ways than having your face snogged off by a dodgy mermaid.
Look at these brilliant pirates. Look at their brilliant beards.
I suppose laughing like that is in the job description.
- I've come to join your crew. -I don't want you here.
- That crate of yours really is a ship? -Well, it's not propelled by the wind.
Very efficient. I mean, if something's going to kill you,
You're stowaways!
Must we do this?
Now and again they collide. And you can step from one to the other.
Come out of there, you mutinous dog!
Typhoid fever. Once he returns, it's only a matter of time.
A green singing shark in an evening gown.
His fever's gone.