"Good work? You're going to turn him into another bloody Murdoch!"

[George looks rumpled and unshaven, although it still hasn't improved his mustache much: it still looks more like a stain above his lip than anything. He's broadcasting hurriedly, and groggily from his cabin.]

I wasn't...did anyone happen to...was mother here?

From the looks of things, everybody else's parents have shown up.

[George's expression clearly reads: well isn't this all good natured-ly humourous?, but it doesn't quite reach any of his edges. George is in George's room, and for once he isn't dressed in his constable's uniform. Oh George, did you misunderstand this flood and go back to wait in your room dressed in your good grey suit thinking that mother might show up? You did, didn't you?]

Does anybody know where the people whose parents have shown up have gotten to? Only I haven't heard a thing out of any of them, and this is certainly the sort of thing you'd expect a person to say a thing about. ...Not that I think there's any cause for worry. I'm sure they're perfectly fine. And it's a pleasure to have you here, Mr. or Mrs. ...your child's name.

Should anybody need a hand, or a police officer for any reason, I'm George Crabtree, and I still am one.