Captain Avery: She can smell the blood on your skin. She's marked you for death.
Rory: She?
Captain Avery: A demon, out there in the ocean.
The Doctor: Okay, groovy. So you're just not pirates today — we've managed to bag us a ship with a demon popping in. Very efficient. I mean, if something's going to kill you, it's nice that it drops you a note to remind you.
The Doctor: And the gun's back. You're big on the gun thing, aren't you? Freud would say you're compensating. Ever met Freud? No. Comfy sofa.
Captain Avery: I give the orders.
The Doctor: Ah. Worry, 'cause I'm wearing a hat now.
Captain Avery: Wheel?
The Doctor: Atom accelerator.
Captain Avery: It steers the thing.
The Doctor: No! Sort of... yes.
Captain Avery: Wheel, telescope, astrolabe, compass. A ship's a ship.
Captain Avery: I'm confused.
The Doctor: Yeah, well, it's a big club. We should get T-shirts.
Rory:I know you can do this. Of course, if you muck it up, I am going to be really cross. And dead.
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