Trelane

[The room looks like it's straight from the back of a museum — dim lighting, crowded shelves, and tables filled with curios. The aisles are wide and clear, though, and the tables themselves are somehow perfectly lit.

Trelane has stopped in front of a display containing a number of bottles, each one filled with a different mode of transport: ships, planes, tanks, submarines... They span the ages, and their only commonality is that they are capable of causing damage, or were used in a strictly military fashion. They are, perhaps, a little too detailed, but he hasn't made them. At least, inasmuch as a child didn't make a firefly he's caught in a jar.

He picks up one of the bottles, tilting it to the side and grinning at the triplane it holds.]

Such a wonderful phrase, "world war." As if there isn't a place not involved in the fighting, one way or another. [He "flies" the bottle through the air to land back in its spot on the table.] And three of them! Simply delightful.