Red Dwarf, Series VI

Rimmer:
There, on the floor... P-S-I-R-E-N-S... "Psirens?"

Kryten:
The poor sucker must have written it using a combination of his own blood, and even his own intestines.

Rimmer:
But who would do that?

Lister:
Someone who BADLY needed a pen.

Cat:
What I wanna know is why he went to the trouble of using his own kidney as a full-stop.

Rimmer:
I don't think he meant to do that. I think it just... plopped out.

[Starbug is threatened by a giant rogue asteroid that could be a mere illusion.]

Kryten:
Suggest we maintain course. That asteroid does not exist.

Rimmer:
Suppose you're wrong?

Kryten:
Sir, I'll stake my reputation on it.

Rimmer:
Kryten, you haven't got a reputation.

Kryten:
No, sir, but I'm hoping to acquire one from this escapade.

Kryten:
Ahh, smug mode; Well, i can't stand around saving your necks all day, i guess i'll make a start on that ironing

Cat:
There's an old cat saying, "It's better to live one hour as a tiger than a whole lifetime as a worm."

Rimmer:
There's an old human saying, "Who's ever heard of a worm skin rug?"

Kryten:
Sir, is it possible you could have made a mis-smelling?

Cat:
Listen, butter-pat head! My nostril-hairs are vibrating faster than the springs on a Spaniard's honeymoon bed! I'm telling you, there's something out there!

Rimmer:
May I remind you of Space Corps Directive 34124?

Kryten:
34124? "No officer with false teeth should attempt oral sex in zero-gravity"?

Kryten:
Whatever it is, they clearly have a technology way in advance of our own!

Lister:
So do the Albanian State Washing Machine Company.

Rimmer:
Step up to Red Alert!

Kryten:
Sir, are you absolutely sure? It does mean changing the bulb.

Rimmer:
There's always some excuse, isn't there?!

Rimmer:
Lister, she's a computer sprite. She's just a load of pixels.

Lister:
Yeah, but what pixels.

Cat:
You're going to go with one of my plans? Are you nuts? What happens if we all get killed? I'll never hear the last of it.

Death:
Well, Sheriff, looks like it's just little old you.

Kryten:
I'm not afraid, Mr Death, sir. My friends have bought enough time for me to complete the antidote program. So, if you'll forgive the confrontational imperative, go for your guns you scum-sucking molluscs!

Death:
We're gonna cut you up so small, the worms won't even have to chew!

Rimmer:
You can't scare me, I'm a coward! I'm always scared!

[First lines of the episode; Rimmer is trying to get the sleeping Lister and Cat to take part in an emergency drill]

Rimmer:
SCRAMBLE! SCRAMBLE! ALL HANDS ON DECK! EMERGENCY DRILL! SCRAMBLE!

(Lister and the Cat are still asleep)

Rimmer:
Er, perhaps you didn't quite catch that - I said SCRAMBLE!

Lister:
[sleepily] Yeah, that'll be great with bacon and beans, man.

Cat:
Look what it did to me! It's turned me into Duane Dibbley - the Duke of Dork.

[While looking for the Emohawk]

Kryten:
According to the psi-scan, it's somewhere in this location.

Lister:
It's the barrel! [shoots at the barrel] Sorry. False alarm. That chain, it's moving! [shoots chain] Sorry. Sorry.

Kryten:
Sir, try and remain calm. You're experiencing a classic knee-jerk, paranoid reaction to a terror situation. It's essential at this time that we - IT'S THE WALL! [shoots the wall] Shame overload. I... I... I sorry.

Rimmer:
Kryten, kindly get to the point before I jam your nose between your cheeks and make it the filling of a buttock sandwich.

Rimmer:
[on facing imminent destruction of Starbug] There's less choice than a Welsh fish and chip shop.

Rimmer:
In which case we can remove him from duty as per Space Corps Directive 196156.

Kryten:
196156? Any officer caught sniffing the saddle of the exercise bicycle in the women's gym will be discharged without trial? Hmm. I'm sorry, sir, that doesn't quite get to the nub of the matter for me.

Rimmer:
I'm a competitive man, Kryten. Always have been. That's what makes me what I am.

Kryten:
We're all perfectly well aware of what you are, sir.

Kryten:
Rogue Simulants always carry large stocks of food supply in order to prolong the torment of their torture victims. In some cases, they've kept subjects alive for 40 years in a state of perpetual agony.

Rimmer:
If we wanted to live in a state of perpetual agony, we'd let Lister play his guitar.

Cat:
There's an old cat saying: "If you're gonna eat tuna, expect bones."

Rimmer:
There's an old human saying: "If you're gonna talk garbage, expect pain."

Lister:
[deciding on whether or not to go into an abandoned Rogue Simulant ship and get food] Kryten, what's for dinner?

Kryten:
Tonight, sir, Asteroid and Lichen Stew followed by Dandelion Sorbet.

Lister:
We're going in.

Kryten:
[to Lister] Sir, are you really saying you would rather have a psychopathic mechanical killer rip off your skull and play your frontal lobes like a xylophone than have another bowl of my nourishing space nettle soup?

Cat:
Buddy, I'd hand him the sticks and hold up the sheet music!

Cat:
[to a Rogue Simulant] There's one thing you should know. Last time we met I was wearing a cute little black number with peach trim and gold spangles, and although it looks like I'm wearing the same outfit today, it is in fact an entirely different cute little black number, with completely different gold spangles!

Kryten:
That was an important speech, sir, and it needed to be made. Might I suggest, however, that the rest of this discourse is continued by those with brains larger than a grape?

Cat:
All in all, a 100% successful trip!

Kryten:
But, sir, we lost Mr. Rimmer.

Cat:
All in all, a 100% successful trip!

Cat:
You know, there's an old cat saying. But you don't wanna hear it right now.

Kryten:
Please, sir, don't panic.

Rimmer:
It's not panic, it's a full blown hysterical fit.

Kryten:
Grind those balls, sir. Grind them!

Rimmer:
So let me get this straight. If we board that ship and get captured, we're finished. However, if we board that ship, don't get captured, but the superstructure disintegrates around us, we're finished. On the other hand, if we board that ship, don't get captured and the superstructure doesn't disintegrate around us, but we can't find any fuel. We are in fact finished?

Lister:
That's about the shape of it, yea.

Kryten:
After you with the balls sir...

Lister:
This might sound like a bit of a corny line, but... I can't bring myself round to say it.

Rimmer:
Say what?

Lister:
Take us to your leader.

Kryten:
Sir, how could you?

Rimmer:
Dear lord, what has created such foulness? Is it the product of a marriage twixt woman and gerbil?

Rimmer:
Enough of this heresy. At the stroke of dawn take them out and kill them. And when you've killed them burn the bodies, then bring me the cold ashes on a silver plate with a glass of chilled sancerre.

Cat:
This guy's an animal. Doesn't he know it's red wine with cold ashes.

Lister:
There's got to be a way out. There hasn't been a prison built that could hold Derek Custer. Why don't we scrape away this mortar here, slide one of these bricks out, then using a rope weaved from strands of this hessian, rig up a kind of a pulley system so that when a guard comes in, using it as a trip wire, gets laid out, and we put Rimmer in the guard's uniform, he leads us out, we steal some swords, and fight our way back to the 'bug?

Kryten:
Or we could use the teleporter.

Lister:
Or in a pinch, we could use the teleporter.

Rimmer:
It can't have gone unnoticed that morale is at an all-time low. We've lost all trace of Red Dwarf and supplies are low. So I have decided to appoint myself morale officer and set myself the task of raising morale all round. Now I thought it would productive if we all met once a week and had a coffee or a beer - whatever's your poison - and get any troubles we may have off our chests. Any objections? [the others mutter agreement.] Well, as it's week one, why don't I start? You know what it is about Lister that really makes me want to puke? That really makes me want to stab him in both eyes with an icepick? Everything, that's what. Especially his godawful chirpy gerbil-faced optimism. And as for the Cat - what an unbelievable git. And Kryten - if he doesn't change pronto, I swear I'll attach jump leads to his nipple nuts and fry him like a Cajun catfish. Well, that's cleared the air. I don't know about you, but I certainly feel better. Thank for your contributions gentlemen. See you at next week's morale meeting. Marvellous. [exits]

Lister:
Good meeting.

[The Dwarfers acquire a time travel device, testing it out by sending the ship to the year 1421]

Rimmer:
Give us visual. Let's see what it's like out there.

Lister:
Okay, punching it up.

[They see nothing but empty space]

Lister:
Hey, I don't get it! We're still where we were!

Kryten:
Of course. We're still in deep space, sir, only now we're in deep space in the 15th century. Isn't it wonderful?

Rimmer:
So we're still three million years away from Earth?

Kryten:
Well, yes.

Lister:
[Sighs] Taking her back to the present.

Kryten:
Keyed in. Engage.

[They go forward in time]

Rimmer:
So forgive me if I'm being thicker than the offspring of a village idiot and a TV weather girl, but what was the point of that little exercise? Fun though it was drinking in the heady medieval atmosphere of Pre-Renaissance deep space, the drive is next to useless, yes?

after discovering Lister is now just a brain in a jar

Rimmer:
Ohhhhhh dear!

Cat:
What? Is he fat?

Rimmer:
Far from it, he's lost a bit of weight actually. In fact he's lost quite a bit of everything.

[From the last scene not shown in the final cut]

Lister:
They aren't margaritas, that's urine recyc!

Cat:
What the hell is all this down my chair? Peanuts?

Lister:
No, I've been trimming my veruccas.

Cat:
You have personal habits that would make a monkey blush.

Lister:
You really think I'm that psychotically disgusting, don't you? They're peanuts, OK?

Cat:
Real peanuts?

Lister:
Yeah.

Cat:
[eats the peanuts] Where'd you get them?

Lister:
Derelict, couple of months back. I found them in the dead Captain's old donkey jacket.

[Cat glares at Lister, looking nauseous]

Lister:
Don't look at me like that. You enjoyed that Mint Imperial, didn't you?

Cat:
Where'd you get that?

Lister:
He was sucking that when he got shot! I had to prise his jaws open with a car jack.

Cat:
You think I believe anything you say!

Rimmer:
Suggestions?

Kryten:
Sir, may I recommend I load myself into the reverse-thrust tubes and you use my body as decoy fodder? This will of course leave me splattered across deep space and unable to complete today's laundry, for which I apologise in advance.

Rimmer:
Kryten, stop your blathering and get in the damn tube. [Kryten nods and stands up]

Lister:
Kryten, sit down! [Kryten sits back down] I'm not doing me own smegging ironing.

Rimmer:
Open communication channels, Lister. Broadcast on all known frequencies and in all known languages, including Welsh. This is acting senior officer of the Jupiter Mining Corporation transport vessel StarBug. Now hear this. It's only coming once. We surrender, totally and without condition, thank you for listening. Oh, additional, sorry for taking your valuable time. Sorry, thank you, bye, sorry, thank you bye.

Lister:
Rimmer, you got a longer yellow streak than a stampede of diacritic camels.

Lister:
Wait a minute. Have anyone ever seen Revenge of the Surfboarding Killer Vampire Bikini Girls?

Kryten:
I think that one slipped us by, sir.

Lister:
Well, there's this one scene, when the good-looking unconventional female journalist who wore glasses and a tight sweater was trapped, deep in the bottom of the Surfboarding Killer Vampire Bikini Girls' lair, and she came up with this award-winning escape plan.

Lister:
What - you're us? All four of us? Our combined minds and personalities, blended together?

Legion:
Oh, but much more than that, exponentially more. The whole becomes far greater than the sum of its parts.

Rimmer:
So we can't leave because you're us? You're created from us? If we leave, you cease to be.

Legion:
Without you, my friends, I am quite literally nothing.

Cat:
So if he's us, he can't hurt us, right?

Cat:
Wrong.

Kryten:
But this is insane. Hurting us is hurting yourself. Our pain is your pain.

Legion:
Kryten, you forget: not only do I possess your combined intellects and memories, I also share the sum of your malice and rage and anger, magnified many times. I'm capable of quite insanely irrational behaviour. Watch.

Legion:
The next hint of insurrection, and the scalpel ends up...here (holding the scalpel to his scrotum).

Kryten:
Legion, that kind of tough talk doesn't scare us.

Everyone else:
Yes, it does!

Lister:
CHANGE OF PLAN! LEG IIIIIITTTTT!

[The Probe Droid has locked onto Starbug. They just dodged 2 shots.]

Rimmer:
We've lost it.

[Explosion from the back.]

Rimmer:
Sorry, I was looking at the wrong panel.

Rimmer:
Damage report?

Cat:
It's bad, bud. Looks like Starbug's been hit!

Rimmer:
Details, halibut breath!

Cat:
Well, according to the damage report machine, there's several small fires, lots of smoke and the navicom's fizzing.

[Explosion from in front of Cat]

Cat:
Oh, damn! Now the damage report machine's exploded!

Rimmer:
My escape plan worked then?

Cat:
What escape plan?

Rimmer:
The valiant plan whereby I set off the disintegration of the ship's hull by bravely leaping into the escape pod, thereby creating a diversion, so you could...(pauses) Actually, how did you escape?

Kryten:
Either Mr. Rimmer had the incredibly good fortune to land on a populated planet.... Or.....

Cat:
...Or what?.

Kryten:
It's too hideous to contemplate!

Cat:
So what do we do?

Rimmer:
Have we got any chance of winning?

Kryten:
Their craft is greatly upgraded. We have no chance whatsoever.

Rimmer:
Then I say fight! (dramatic chord of music)

Kryten (astounded):
Mr. Rimmer?

Rimmer:
Better dead than smeg!

Lister:
Ye-es! Cat?

Cat:
Better dead than sofa-size butt!

Lister:
Kryten?

Kryten:
Better anything than that toupee!

Kryten:
But there may be...

[An explosion sends Kryten flying. Rimmer, now the sole survivor, goes towards him in shock]

Rimmer:
Kryten...? Kryten?! There may be a what? A way out of this? Is that what you were gonna say? Sp... speak, Kryten! How can we change what's happening?