Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I know someone who'd love to get Chopra

But to humans -- greedy, filthy, stupid humans...

- What now? - Talk.

'Please stand clear of the pod.

♪ Give him two lips Like roses in... ♪

Something electronic in the Morpheus process

Oh! Have you brought me to a space restaurant!?

'You know the one.'

But this man... the Doctor...

You can't fight them, Doctor.

What he wants is to get that thing off this ship.

We need a distraction.

Well, when you're not looking.

I just needed to find a way to get them off this station,

For the Gods' sake, come and get me.

♪ Bom, bom, bom, bom, bom, bom

'More, please.'

Keep going, move it, move it, move it!

May the Gods look favourably upon you.

Chopra! 474! May the Gods... Where are you?!

Every night we dive deep into that inky pool.

The dust conglomerates. It moulds itself into a humanoid form.

'or taken from the station itself -- the only footage available.'

But if you do watch...

This is my station.

That's you, Clara.

So, what do we do?

None of this makes any sense.

Balm of hurt minds,

'The Morpheus song!'

Oh, come on now...

Blood cells. Skin cells. Mucus.

You can't just throw accusations like that around!

'Nagata, this is Deep-Ando! May the Gods look favourably upon you!'

Faulty filament. Three-day week.

'The song, please.'

Yes. I'm sure it'll be fine. I'm sure you'll be fine.

Glamis hath murdered sleep,

Don't be an-gry!

Septembrie 19, 1972

It could have killed me!

And then, there's this.

- OK. Really? - Yes, really.

.. just in the corner of your eye.

Sleep, that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care.

We have to go back.