The Doctor winced, as he had actually rather liked that coat, and directed everyone out the door. "Right. Amy, Rose, keep the comms open in case we need help. Rory, you and your lot make some sort of ruckus when you need us to charge in. Romana, shall we?"
Rory sighed. The Last Centurion turned Painted Celt. At this rate he'd wind up dressed in a kilt next time. At least then he'd have a trifecta. "C'mon, River. Jack."
This was no state for a girl to see her father in, even with a loincloth.