A volly of electrically charged pellets shot toward the eyes talk of the dalek, coming from a man, holding some sort of silver submachine gun, next to the ship. He opened his mouth to speak, and then decided not to as he saw an orange salt shaker with a toilet plunger and a telephone antennae for hands acting as an effective fighting force. For some reason this seemed to be one of the less outlandish things that happened to him today.