Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

- like something else is controlling it. - You're flying it wrong.
Let somebody else try first.
- Got to draw its fire, give it a target. - How?
F-Forget it.
and that's the theory.
Doctor?
Why bring it to me?
Around this planet, there are at least 10,000 starships.
Yes, there's burn marks on the grass outside,
and then I was just here, a Roman soldier. A proper Roman.
All projections correlate. All evidence concurs.
It's a fairy tale, a legend. It can't be real.
What's the matter?
- So can you open it? - Easily. Anyone can break into a prison.
- The Doctor gave it to me. - Show it to me.
But why would they lock up one of their own?
All reality is threatened.
There's going to be a huge explosion in the future, on one particular day.
The Pandorica Opens.
Projections or...duplicates.
- The Doctor? - He's in trouble.
Listen to me...!
- My house. - It was too big, too many empty rooms.
Doctor, what is this?
- Sorry, what? - The story.
Does it ever bother you, Amy, that your life doesn't make any sense?
Right. Rory, I'm sorry, you're going to have to be very brave now.
The oldest planet in the universe. There's a cliff of pure diamond
- Doctor... - Hush, Rory, thinking.
But I will have. Doctor, I'm picking up fry particles everywhere.
- Hi. - Welcome to Britain.
Nothing. It's like...
Amy!
Terileptil. Slitheen. Chelonian. Nestene. Drahvin.
Doctor?!
It's kind of fuzzy.
Who...? Who are you...?
stuff, a whole other life.
Not cheap, Dr Song.