Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

to the death.
DOOR SLAMS
I have a bad feeling about this.
Martian or no Martian.
Very roomy.
Look, it doesn't matter who's in charge of your stupid expedition!
To claim Mars in the name of Queen Victoria.
Down by the river.
No. It ain't.
If there are others who sleep here,
The sooner you get off this planet, the better!
This farce has gone on long enough!
Present!
Captain Catchlove's further on with his repairs than he's let on.
Come on, lads! There's only three of them.
- They disappeared. - Except they didn't.
Put them in the brig, too. There's no room for civilians here.
Authorising us to go anywhere we please. So - Valkyrie?
Let's face it, in this scenario, the humans are the invaders.
Speak!
Fingers crossed, Alan. I got everything crossed.
Simple cowardice.
Speak.
But don't let it end this way!
Man Friday? As in Robinson Crusoe?
They built themselves a sort of bio-mechanical armour for protection.
They could slaughter whole civilisations,
You'll regret this!
I'm trying to save their lives!
So, according to this you've been on board Friday's ship the whole time?
This is the tomb of an Ice Queen.
You seem to know a lot about most things.
Mars. 1881. Or thereabouts.
Who are you people?
It's a movie. You'd like that one too. Everybody dies.
To repair his spaceship?
The deuce she is! And you think you can just go about
It's a movie. You haven't seen it?
Who the deuce are you two, really?
No. No, wait, stop this! Doctor, stop him! Shh!