Spearhead from Space

LIZ: Then what do you do, exactly?

BRIGADIER: We deal with the odd, the unexplained, anything on Earth, or even beyond.

LIZ: Alien invaders? Little blue men with three heads?

BRIGADIER: Ten tons of alien material drift through space and land on this planet every day.

LIZ: And do no harm to anyone.

BRIGADIER: Still sceptical?

LIZ: Of course. I deal with facts, not science fiction ideas.

BRIGADIER: Miss Shaw, I'm not a fool. I don't chase shadows. What you don't understand is that there might, there is a remote possibility that outside your cosy little world other things could exist.

LIZ: No need to get tetchy.

BRIGADIER: Well, sometimes you can be very aggravating.

LIZ: Me? What about you? You really believe in a man who's helped to save the world twice? With the power to transform his physical appearance?

BRIGADIER: I'm not sure yet. It may not be the same man.

LIZ: An alien who travels through time and space in a police box?

SCOBIE: Dear chap, what are you doing with a police box?

BRIGADIER: Well, sir

LIZ: Camouflage, General. It's not really a police box. It's a spaceship.

BRIGADIER: Oh well, at least he won't get very far.

LIZ: You mean, before your men shoot him again?

BRIGADIER: I don't find that funny. Without this machine, the Doctor's stuck. He can't leave Earth.

LIZ: You were about to open it?

BRIGADIER: Yes.

LIZ: I think you should. There might be a policeman locked inside.

“All right, all right, I suppose you want to see my pass? Yes, well, I haven't got one. And I'm not going to tell you my name, either. Now you just tell Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart that I want to see him. Well, don't just stand there arguing with me, man! Get on with it!”

HENDERSON: Hello! How are you feeling?

DOCTOR: Shoes.

HENDERSON: I beg your pardon?

DOCTOR: Shoes.

NURSE: They seem to be worrying him, sir. I think he believes they've been stolen.

HENDERSON: Well, if he wants them, he might as well. Where are they, nurse?

NURSE: In his locker.

(Henderson takes a pair of black shiny shoes from the bedside locker.)

HENDERSON: Ah! Are these what you're looking for?

(The Doctor grabs them and rolls over, clutching the shoes to his chest.)

“Men. Creatures! Made in the factory!”