DOCTOR: Can’t take the pace, eh? That’s teach you to impersonate someone less awe-inspiring next time.

BANTO: Awe inspiring? In that coat? Have you looked in the mirror recently? Come to think of it, I shouldn’t think you do much else!

DOCTOR: I intend to rise above your barbs. But before I do, I’d like to say this coat can only be appreciated by someone with a sharpened aesthetic sense! Not a dunderhead like you!

BANTO: Sharpened aesthetic sense? Sharpened by what? A dose of mind-altering drugs?!

DOCTOR: I warn you! A verbal duel with me, as you should remember, if you used the smallest fraction of your cerebral cortex, can only end in ignominy for you!

BANTO: Igno-what? Talking to you is like arguing with a thesaurus!

DOCTOR: It’s a gigantic body composed almost entirely of superheated gas.

BANTO: Rather like you, then.

DOCTOR: If I have to endure another insult—

BANTO: Oh, here we go, another voyage round the English language…

CYLINDER: “But still, I must be certain.” (that you are not a Time Lord and Banto Zame is)

DOCTOR: And the Doctor’s a Time Lord, your cylinderness. And a Time Lord would never do this!“ (he gives Sally-Anne a giant smooch)

SALLY-ANNE: (swooning) Oh, Doctor…

MEL: Doctor!

CYLINDER: You’re right. A Time Lord would never do that.

DOCTOR: He's standing on a box. To my eyes, that box looks very like a sophisticated computer.

SALLY-ANNE: How can you tell?

DOCTOR: Compare it to the rest of this place. All in ruins - a toppled empire. But that box is pristine. Throbbing with energy.

SALLY-ANNE: Yeah. That’s very clever of you to notice that.

DOCTOR: Yeah? Well I am very clever.

SALLY-ANNE: And very sexy.

DOCTOR: And very se—no! No. Let’s not start all that over again.

MEL: That voice sounded fishy to me.

DOCTOR: Oh, what? Of aquatic origin, you think?

(after rolling the dice, Mel moves her Monopoly piece)

MEL: (groans) Oh, no.

DOCTOR: (growls) Excellent! You must surrender to my will… (normal voice) £2,260 rent, please.

DOCTOR: (laughs maniacally) At last, I control everything! You are my pawns to do as I please! You have no choice but to bend to my every will! Yes, I own you. I am your creator. And I can be your destroyer…

MEL: Honestly, Doctor, stop being so melodramatic.

DOCTOR: (normal voice) Mel, am I not permitted an occasional moment of melodrama?

MEL: Yes, but it’s only a game of monopoly.

DOCTOR: A game…but I am winning! There is no power but mine. I control Park Lane, Mayfair, the Water Works…

MEL: Doctor!

DOCTOR: I want to imagine how it feels like to be a power-crazed dictator; see into the enemy’s mind.

MEL: And?

DOCTOR: (normal voice) Boring. And I hate hotels. Your roll.