Red Dwarf, Series V

Cat:
What, am I the only sane one here? Why don't we drop the defensive shields?

Kryten:
A superlative suggestion, sir, with just two minor flaws. One: we don't have any defensive shields. And two: we don't have any defensive shields. Now I realise that, technically speaking, that's only one flaw; but I thought it was such a big one, it was worth mentioning twice.

Lister:
Lister to Red Dwarf. We have in our midst a complete smeg pot. Brains in the anal region. Chin absent, presumed missing. Genitalia small and inoffensive. Of no value or interest.

Kryten:
They've taken Mr. Rimmer! Sir, they've taken Mr. Rimmer!

Cat:
Quick - let's get out of here before they bring him back!

[Rimmer and the holgram Nivana Crane have just finished having casual sex.]

Rimmer:
That was just unbelievable!

Nivana:
It's never been like that before

Rimmer:
Was it OK?

Nivana:
It was, different.

Rimmer:
Different?

Nivana:
You make love like a Japanese meal; small potions but so many courses

Rimmer:
Look Nivana, i hope you didn't get me wrong just now, that meant nothing to me, truly less than nothing, really.

Nivana:
Good

Rimmer:
We may as well have been playing Tennis

Nivana:
As is should be

Rimmer:
I don't suppose you fancy a tie break?

Nivana:
You know, we usually talk

Rimmer:
What do you talk about?

Nivana:
Research, new theories, mission profiles.

Rimmer:
I'm sorry, i must have seemed very ignorant. I hardly said anything apart from 'Geronimo!'

Rimmer:
So, Kryten, you've heard of this "Inquisitor"?

Kryten:
Only as a myth; a dark fable; a horror tale, told across the flickering embers of a midnight fire, wherever hardened space dogs gather to drink fermented vegetable products and compete in tales of blood-chilling terror!

Rimmer:
A simple "yes" would have sufficed.

Kryten:
That is the Inquisitor; he prunes away the wasters, expunges the wretched and deletes the worthless

Rimmer:
We're in big trouble!

Kryten:
Sir! Sir, you don't have to be a great philanthropist, or a missionary worker, you simply have to seize the gift of life!

Rimmer:
Oh, God.

Kryten:
Make a contribution.

Rimmer:
Oh, God.

Kryten:
No matter how small.

Rimmer:
Oh, God.

Kryten:
You simply have to have lead a life that wasn't totally egocentric, vain and self-serving.

Rimmer:
You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?

Kryten:
I'm just trying to make you feel better, sir.

Rimmer:
Well, shut up then!

Inquisitor:
You have been granted the greatest gift of all: the gift of life. Tell me - what have you done to deserve this superlative good fortune?

Rimmer:
Well, I say this with the highest respect, but...what gives you the right to ask - no, actually, demand - that answer of me - your magnificence? (this last is delivered hurriedly with a bow)

Inquisitor:
ALL must answer to the Inquisitor!

Rimmer:
But how do I know I'll get a fair hearing?

Inquisitor:
Because...like all who stand before the Inquisitor...your judge shall be...(he flips up his visor revealing...Rimmer!)...yourself!

Rimmer:
Oh, smeg.

Inquisitor Rimmer:
'Oh, smeg' indeed, matey!

Rimmer:
Everyone is judged by their own self?

Inquisitor Rimmer:
It's a bit metaphysical, I know, but it's the only fair way. Now then: justify yourself.

Rimmer:
Well...first, I've -

Inquisitor Rimmer:
Liar!

Inquisitor Cat:
Justify your existence. What contribution have you made?

Cat:
I have given pleasure to the world because I have such a beautiful ass!

Inquisitor Cat:
Well, that's true.

Cat:
Can I go now?

Inquisitor Cat:
...That's your case?

Cat:
You need more?

Inquisitor Cat:
Some might say that's a pretty shallow argument.

Cat:
Some might say I'm a pretty shallow guy, but a shallow guy with a great ass!

Inquisitor Kryten:
Well, Kryten? Justify yourself.

Kryten:
I'm not sure I can.

Inquisitor Kryten:
But surely your life is replete with good works? There can be few individuals who have lived a more selfless life.

Kryten:
But I am programmed to live unselfishly. And therefore, any good works I do come not out of fine motives, but as a result of a series of binary commands I am compelled to obey.

Inquisitor Kryten:
Well, then, how can any mechanical justify himself?

Kryten:
Perhaps only if he attempted to break his programming and conduct his life according to a set of values he arrived at independently.

Inquisitor Kryten:
Your argument invites deletion.

Kryten:
The rules are yours, not mine.

Inquisitor Kryten:
Do you wish to be erased?

Kryten:
I am programmed not to wish for anything. I serve.

Inquisitor Kryten:
In a human, this type of behaviour could be considered "stubborn".

Kryten:
But I am not human. And neither are you. And it is not our place to judge them. I wonder why you do.

Inquisitor Lister:
well, get out of this one smeg head

Lister:
What are you talking about?

Inquisitor Lister:
You know what you could have made of your life if you'd tried, what you could've become.

Lister:
So?

Inquisitor Lister:
You've got brains man, brains you've never used.

Lister:
so?

Inquisitor Lister:
So then justify yourself.

Lister:
Spin on it!

Lister:
Listen, Kryten, I've been thinkin' about this, I've come up with something.

Kryten:
Yes, sir?

Lister:
I'm gonna use my brains for the first time in my life.

Kryten:
Considering the circumstances, sir, do you really believe that's wise?

Kryten:
Personal black box recording. Time: unknown. Location: unknown. Cause of accident: unknown. Perhaps if someone finds this recording it will shed light as to what happened here. My short-term memory appears to have been erased.This I ascribe to the proximity of the magnetic coils from Starbug's rear engine. (He looks around briefly) Secondly, due to the proximity of the magnetic coils, my short-term memory appears to have been erased.

Kryten:
Sir, a couple of brief points: firstly, you're not a qualified service engineer, and, consequently, sawing me in two will invalidate my guarantee; secondly, I wouldn't trust you to open a can of sardines that was already open.

Cat:
Okay. I say let's get into the jet-powered rocket pants and junior birdman the hell out of here!

Kryten:
An excellent and inventive suggestion, sir, with just two tiny drawbacks: a) We don't have any jet-powered rocket pants; and b) there's no such thing as jet-powered rocket pants outside the fictional serial "Robbie Rocket Pants."

Cat:
Well, that's put a crimp on an otherwise damn fine plan.

Lister:
We're a real Mickey Mouse operation, aren't we?

Cat:
Mickey Mouse? We ain't even Betty Boop!

Dr. Hildegarde Lanstrom:
Schopenhauer was right, wouldn't you say? Life without pain has no meaning. Gentlemen! I wish to give your lives meaning...

Dr. Hildegarde Lanstrom:
(over radio) Hello, my name is Doctor Hildegarde Lanstrom and I'm quite quite mad

Rimmer:
(jokingly) Are you really, how absolutely splendid

Dr. Hildegarde Lanstrom:
I have a riddle for you. What's dead, and dead, and dead all over?

Rimmer:
Give in Doctor fruit-loop, do tell me.

Dr. Hildegarde Lanstrom:
yoooooooooooooooooooou.

[discussing the looming 3 months in quarantine]

Kryten:
Sir, it's a scientific fact that the human male needs to spend time by himself

Lister:
Is it?

Kryten:
Hm, the most popular pass times have always been ones that males can enjoy alone. Angling, golf and of course the all time number 1

Cat:
I's not just humans, look what happens when two male tigers are locked up together. One of them winds up on the others toothpick

Kryten:
Lions, tigers, scorpions, rats. Even vultures when they're in captivity.

Lister:
What are you saying to me? 'Vultures need personal space'? They need time alone to put their feet up and read 'What Carcass?' magazine?

[after a few days]

Lister:
I'm just saying, there's 79 more days to go.

Kryten:
I suggest then if you want to still be alive when there are only 78 more days, then you do not blow your nose.

Lister:
Do you mind if I ask why?

Kryten:
Well, lets forget the noise and the revolting burbling sound and get straight to the really gross part when you always, and I do mean ALWAYS, having blown your nose, you have to open up the handkerchief and take a look at the contents. I mean, why? What do expect to see in there? A Turner seascape perhaps? The face of the Madonna? An undiscovered Shakespearean sonnet?

Rimmer:
Gentlemen... your conversation makes interesting listening.

Lister:
Rimmer, is that you?

Rimmer:
Oh Yes...

Lister:
How long have you been listenin'?

Rimmer:
Two, maybe three hours...

Lister:
Well nobody's got any disease, man.

Cat:
We're clean.

Kryten:
You have to re-screen us, sir, as per directive 699.

Lister:
No-one's got any virus, and no-one's smeggin' nuts!

Rimmer:
Well that's good.

[The lights come up, and Rimmer is shown sitting wearing a red and white gingham dress and army boots]

Rimmer:
Is something amiss?

Lister:
Hell no! What could possibly be amiss?

Rimmer:
Really? I'm wearing a red and white gingham dress... and army boots... and you think nothing is amiss?

Rimmer:
No I can't let you out

Lister:
Why Not?

Rimmer:
Because the King of the Potato People wont let me. I begged him, I got down on my knees, and wept. He wants to keep you here...Keep you here for ten years.

Cat:
Can we see him?

Rimmer:
See who?

Cat:
The King.

Rimmer:
Do you have a magic carpet?

Lister:
Yeh...a little three seater!

Rimmer:
So let me get this straight: you want to fly on a magic carpet, to see the king of the potato people, and plead with him for your freedom... and you're telling me you're completely sane? I think that calls for two hours of W-O-O.

Lister:
[panicked] What's W-O-O?

Cat:
You had to ask...

Rimmer:
With... Out.. Oxygen! Two hours without oxygen. That'll teach you to be breadbaskets!

Rimmer:
They've been naughty boys, haven't they, Mr Flibble?

"Mr Flibble":
Yes.

Rimmer:
What happens to naughty boys who've been naughty, Mr Flibble?

"Mr Flibble":
Uncle Arnie fries them alive with his hex vision.

Lister:
Kryten man! Are you okay?

Kryten:
I have a medium-sized fire axe buried in my spinal column. That sort of thing can really put a crimp on your day.

Rimmer:
Mr Flibble is very cross, you shouldn't have run away from him. What are we going to do with them Mr Flibble?

[Rimmer raises his arm to his ear and Mr Flibble 'whispers' into Rimmer's ear. Rimmer makes a shocked face]

Rimmer:
We can't possibly do that! Who'd clear up the mess?

Holly:
Rude alert! Rude alert! An electrical fire has knocked out my voice recognition unicycle! Many Wurlitzers are missing from my database. Abandon shop! This is not a daffodil. Repeat: This is not a daffodil.

Rimmer:
Well, thankfully Holly's unaffected.

Lister:
I'll tell you one thing. I've been to a parallel universe, I've seen time running backwards, I've played pool with planets and I've given birth to twins, but I never thought in my entire life I'd taste an edible Pot Noodle.

Higher Cat:
We find clothes to be a distraction from the pursuit of spiritual and intellectual fulfillment.

Cat:
Really? I find spiritual and intellectual fulfillment to be a distraction from the pursuit of clothes.

Kryten:
These are our higher selves. They are who we could have become if all the negative aspects of our characters were removed.

Rimmer:
You mean hippies.

Kryten:
With respect sir, you think Jesus was a hippie.

Rimmer:
Well, he was. He had long hair and he didn't have a job. What more do you want?

[After Dave, Higher Cat, and Rimmer have all passed by a junction of two corridors Higher Kryten stops and yells down it]

Higher Kryten:
Welcome brothers we bring food and medical supplies.

[Higher Kryten is shot once in the left shoulder by an unseen person. Lister pulls him away from the junction.]

Higher Kryten:
Poor devil, his gun must have gone off accidentally.

[Higher Kryten steps back out into the junction.]

Higher Kryten:
Welcome my children we bring you balms and tinctures.

[Higher Kryten is shot two more times, once in the left shoulder, and once in the abdomen.]

Higher Kryten:
We would be pleased to sing you healing hymns!

[Higher Kryten is shot two more times and falls. Lister steps out into the junction.]

Lister:
Is he dead?

Rimmer:
We can only hope.

Low Rimmer:
I'm going to lash you to within an inch of your life, and then, i'm going to have you.

Kryten:
Question which occurs: if this ocean is supposed to be teeming with new lifeforms, where are they all?

Lister:
What are you implying?

Kryten:
No implication intended, sir.

Lister:
Yes, there is. You're saying there's some huge damn fish out there, aren't yer? Some kinda gigantic weird pre-historic leviathan who's porked his way through this entire ocean.

Kryten:
That's one option.

Lister:
Any alternatives?

Kryten:
None that occur.

Cat:
Don't fish swim south for the winter?

Kryten:
No, sir. That's birds.

Cat:
Birds swim south? How can they breathe?

Lister:
Why would a haddock kill itself? ...Why am I even asking that question?

Rimmer:
I know that, emotionally speaking, this isn't the news you want to hear right now. But there's a blob on the sonar scope the size of New Mexico and it's heading your way.

Holly:
I think our friend the Suicide Squid is about to put in an appearance.

Kryten:
Where is it, precisely?

Rimmer:
Directly above you. 2,000 fathoms and diving.

Lister:
Oh, thanks a lot, Rimmer. You know the state we're in and you have to go and give us news like that. You couldn't have *lied*?

Rimmer:
I *was* lying. It's only 1,000 fathoms.

Rimmer:
This venom - are we safe in here?

Lister:
It penetrated the hull of a class D space corps seeding ship. In comparison, we're a sardine tin.

Rimmer:
It's coming straight for us.

Lister:
There's only three alternatives: it thinks we're either a threat, food or a mate.... It's either gonna kill us, eat us or hump us. Either we persuade him we're not that kinda oceanic salvage vessel, or we scarper pronto.

Cat:
To get diddled by a giant squid on a first date? Think how I'd feel in the morning!

Rimmer:
Kryten, open the next one.

Kryten:
Listen, whoever you are, don't push your luck by ordering whoever I am around, because almost certainly, whoever I am, I'm not the kind of guy who's gonna take any crap from whoever you are. So before you start ordering me around, let's establish if I'm the kind of guy who doesn't mind being ordered around or if I'm the kind of guy who gets all uptight about being ordered around by whatever the kind of guy you are.

Rimmer:
All I said was open the next one.

Rimmer:
This is a nightmare! I'm on the run from the Fascist Police with a murderer, a mass murderer and a man in a Bri-Nylon shirt!

Cat:
What the hell happened to my teeth? I could open beer bottles with my overbite!

Cat:
No, no! I don't want to be Duane Dibbley!

Duane Dibbley:
So this is really me? A no-style gimbo with teeth the Druids could use as a place of worship?

Sebastian Doyle:
[reading] "Vote Fascist for a Third Glorious Decade of Total Law Enforcement"?

Jake Bullet:
[reading] "Be a Government Informer. Betray Your Family & Friends. Fabulous Prizes to be Won"?

The Cat:
We could all put our heads together and the bullet could go down the line!

Cop:
Halt or I will fire.

Cop:
[in pursuit] Move, Voters!

Jake Bullet:
[Grabbing Billy Doyle-Rimmer] Move an inch and I'll crush every bone in your body.

Cop:
You helped an enemy of Democracy escape. She was stealing an apple of the people.

Jake Bullet:
[flashing ID] Bullet. Cybernautics.

Cop:
That's traffic control. Kneel, Voters! You are under sentence of death.

Cop:
[to Sebastian-Lister] Come out of the shadows, Voter.

Sebastian Doyle:
What's the beef? Did she steal your lunch box?

Cop:
M... mm... many apologies, Voter Colonel.

Sebastian Doyle:
You know me?

Cop:
Of course, Voter Colonel.

Sebastian Doyle:
Who am I?

Cop:
You are Colonel Sebastian Doyle, Section Chief of CGI, Head of the Ministry of Alteration.

Sebastian Doyle:
Remind me a little: what do we do at the Ministry of Alteration?

Cop:
You... change people, Sir.

Sebastian Doyle:
In what way?

Cop:
You change them from being alive people, to being dead people. To purify Democracy.

Billy Doyle:
Purify?

Cop:
[proudly] No one has done more to purge the ballot boxes than the Voter Colonel.

Duane Dibbley:
So why has he been away for 4 years then?

Cop:
Excuse me, Voter Colonel, but is this some sort of test?

Sebastian Doyle:
Answer him.

Cop:
The rumour was that you had grown weary of your glorious duties and had gone away in secret to renew yourself.

Your mom

Lister:
Rimmer, they're a bunch of arrogant, pompous, emotionally-weird, stuck-up megalomaniacs. Do you really think you're going to fit in with them? (Pause) What am I saying? Bon voyage!

Rimmer:
Wasn't it St. Francis of Assisi himself who said, "Never give a sucker an even break"?

Kryten:
Well, if he did, sir, it was strictly off the record.

[Rimmer is saying goodbye to the other Dwarfers]

Rimmer:
Look, I'm not much good at big speeches, and I know I haven't always been an easy guy to get on with. And I know that, given the choice, I probably wouldn't have chosen you as friends. But, I just want to say that over the years, I have come to regard you as...people I met. I'd just better go, OK?

Lister:
See you, smeghead.

Rimmer:
Oh, and sir, you're wrong. We won't be apart, we just...won't be together.

Rimmer:
I cannot believe I just said that! (he leaves)

Holly:
We're locked out!

Kryten:
This is not a malfunction, there's something controlling the craft!

Rimmer:
Holly, any traffic around?

Holly:
Nothing on the local scan.

Kryten:
This isn't possible! There must be -

Inquisitor (through Lister):
I am in possession of the human known as Lister. Do not attempt to resist me!

Cat:
What happened to him? His voice finally break?

Kryten (realising what's happening):
Uh, who are you?

Inquisitor (through Lister):
Tremble at my name, for I am the Inquisitor!

Kryten:
The Inquisitor?!

Inquisitor (through Lister):
Your vessel is under my control. It will return you to your mother ship, where you will face judgement. You will each present a case to justify your existence. If you fail, you will be deleted.

Lister:
'ang on a minute, why should we take any notice of some crazed rogue robot who's appointed 'imself judge and jury to the whole of humanity? Why should we kowtow to his judgement?

Inquisitor (through Lister):
Because I have the power to snap your body in two like a dry reed!!!

Lister (gasping):
Good answer, man, good answer!

Kryten:
Uh-oh, the door. We'd better use an air vent.

Lister:
No need.

Kryten:
Sir?

Lister:
Look, I'm gonna do something now, Kryten, that's totally, totally gross. I don't want you to look. Turn around.

Kryten:
What?

Lister:
Trust me, you don't wanna know!

Kryten:
Logically, sir, there is only one way you could have possibly have opened that door. I feel quite nauseous. Where is it?

Lister (innocently):
Where's what?

Kryten:
Oh, sir! You've got it in your jacket!!

Lister:
I got us out of the hold, didn't I?

Kryten:
Sir, you are sick! You are a sick, sick person!

Lister:
Shut up.

Kryten:
How can you possibly even conceive of such an idea?

Lister:
Shut up! Or I'll beat you to death with the wet end!

Lister:
OK. I'm here, what's the beef?

Holly:
We've got a visitor.

Lister:
What?

Holly:
A pod arrived about 20 minutes ago. Something was in it, but it's broken free.

Lister:
Any ideas?

Holly:
Well, I don't want to spread any panic or alarm.

Lister:
Whaddya mean, you don't wanna spread panic and alarm?

Holly:
Well, you've always had this thing against tarantulas, haven't you?

Lister:
(worried) Tarantulas?

Holly:
I mean that you've never been overly fond of them as a species, have you?

Lister:
Well, no.

Holly:
And the prospect of waking up and finding one crawling over your clammy, naked, helpless body has always filled you with a kind of cold dread?

Lister:
Well, yeah. W - what are you trying to say to me, Holly?

Holly:
I'm saying it might not be your night.

Rimmer:
Is this the British Embassy? Does it even look the remotest bit like the British Embassy? I want to know who you are, what I'm doing here, and I want to know now!

Druid:
In accordance with the appetites of the Dark One, malicious ruler of this domain, we, the Hooded Legions, proffer up this sacrifice to slake the vile depraved thirstings of the Unspeakable One.

Rimmer:
Well, that's cleared that one up.

Rimmer:
Err, where are you going? Err, what are you doing? My God! Are you going to take a flying leap?

Maid:
We are going to summon the Master.

Rimmer:
The Master?

Maid:
You have been prepared for him.

Rimmer:
This 'Master' character - and I acknowledge that I may not want to know the full answer to this one - but why does he want me oily in particular? Obviously, whatever he has in mind is facilitated by my being slippery and pliant, yes?

Second maid:
He always likes his victims to be oiled. An oiled body is so much better for conducting the electricity.

Rimmer:
Not the best news, but it could have been worse.

The Unspeakable One:
Silence, you dank tuft of rectal pubic hair!

Kryten:
(after ramming his head on a metal column) Aah, that's better. Maybe now I can WIN SELF-DETERMINATION FOR THE SOUTH MALDAVIAN PEOPLE!!!!