Trevor Sigma: Name?
The Doctor: I'm the Doctor. Haven't we met?
Trevor Sigma: I'm sorry, that's classified information.
The Doctor: You're Trevor Sigma, aren't you?
Trevor Sigma: Galactic Census Bureau, I ask the questions.
The Doctor: You ask the questions?
Trevor Sigma: I'm sorry, that's classified information. Address?
The Doctor: Which one?
Trevor Sigma: If you live here, I need a town and a street. If you're an alien, I need a home planet, except when you spend more than half the work here when you're away, in which case I need a planet of origin.
The Doctor: That's classified information. Name?
Trevor Sigma: What?
The Doctor: I ask the questions. Name!
Trevor Sigma: Trevor Sigma.
The Doctor: Address?
Trevor Sigma: Galactic Census.
Earl Sigma: What's happening Doctor?
The Doctor: Questionnaire. Occupation?
Trevor Sigma: Galactic Census Bureau, authorised to enter all Alphan property and to interview all Alphans.
The Doctor: Good, take me to your leader.
Earl Sigma: You're a nice guy Doctor, but a little weird.
The Doctor: I don't know about the little...
The Doctor: And where are the Census Bureau going to send you next?
Trevor Sigma: Earth. Have you been there?
The Doctor: Once or twice.
Trevor Sigma: Miserable sort of place.
The Doctor: You’re making me feel nostalgic.
Earl Sigma: Blissful, isn’t it, Doctor? Silence.
The Doctor: Aha, not quite. I can hear the sound of empires toppling.
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