("RED DWARF" THEME)
How are you feeling, Mr Lister?
(WEARILY) Oh, much better, thanks, Kryten.
- Much, much better.
- Well, you certainly look better, far better.
I can't believe how much
the swelling's gone down overnight.
Do you reckon?
Oh, definitely. It was almost interfering
with the ceiling fan yesterday afternoon.
You're nearly back to your old old self. In
fact, you can hardly tell you've got space mumps at all.
So, when can I have a mirror?
Ah, I don't think we're
quite ready for a mirror just yet, sir.
Let's take it one step at a time, shall we?
Oh, there what did I tell you? It's gone down
eight inches overnight. You'll be up and about in no time.
I don't know what I'd have done
without you these last three weeks, Kryten.
You're like Florence
Nightingdroid.
- Did you bring my breakfast?
- Yes, sir. Hot lager with croutons. Just the way you asked.
You certainly find out who your mates are
when you've got an unsightly disfiguring ailment.
- I wouldn't say unsightly, sir.
- Get out of town, Kryten.
I've got a head like a hot-air balloon.
I look like the Human Light Bulb.
And how many times
have they visited me?
How many times have they dropped by with
a word of comfort or a bunch of grapes?
It's just not been possible, sir.
Mr Rimmer has been on vacation.
Vacation? The world's most charismatic man?
Where did he go?
He's been on a rambling holiday through the diesel decks.
A ten-day hike through the ship's
combustion engines with two of the skutters.
- He said he'd pop by later and show you the slides.
- He didn't, did he?
Well, he's been loading the
projection carousel for 24 hours now, sir.
We've got to stop him!
A slide show of the diesel decks -
that could really finish me off.
I would have thought the Cat
would have dropped in though.
Well, he's been preoccupied of late
what with all this pod business.
Oh, screw down my diodes and call me Frank!
I wasn't supposed to mention that.
What pod?
Oh! Now you're not well, sir.
Now, just forget I mentioned it.
Come on, Kryten. What pod?
Ohh... Yesterday evening, we came across
an escape pod floating in the local asteroid belt.
It contains the survivor of some space crash,
apparently cryogenically frozen.
- Oh, yeah?
- All the signs are she's in a suitable condition for revival.
- She?
- As far as we can tell, she's a she, yes.
That's just great, isn't it? That's just typical.
The first female company in three million years,
and I look like something that belongs up a whale's nose.
- Smeg!
- You can't get up, sir! What are you doing?
What do you think I'm doing?
There's a woman on board!
I'm on the cop.
- So, who is she, Holly?
- It says on the pod, 'Barbra Bellini.'
Barbra Bellini. What a beautiful name.
There's no justice. How could this happen to me?
Maybe, I could wear a turban
and pretend I'm from India.
Maybe you could stick a spike in your
head and pretend you're the Taj Mahal.
Oh, it's you.
Well, thanks for visiting me, man. Thanks a lot.
Look at you. You know what
you look like? It's nauseating.
You could go double-dating with the Elephant Man
and *he* would be the looker.
- Why isn't this activated?
- What?
How come no-one started up the thaw process.
- I thought Alphabet-Head did it.
- So, who is she, man? Where's she from?
Who cares? At last... a date.
Who says she's gonna
be interested in you?
I see what you're saying.
All this time alone in deep space
could have driven her insane, right?
No. Say she's just an ordinary
person, who doesn't go for your type?
I would have heard about her! She would have appeared in "Ripley's Believe It Or Not".
- Well say she's interested in somebody else?
- Like who?
I dunno. Like... Well, like me?
You've got a head like like a watermelon.
What you gonna do?
Paint it with yellow and black stripes and
tell her you play quarterback with the Bengals?
I just think you're a little bit cocky for a guy
who's never actually met a real woman before.
I've seen mirrors. I have eyes.
Let's face it, buddy, I have a body that makes men wet.
- Have you ever heard of an animal called an Iranian jird?
- No.
It can do 150 pelvic
thrusts a second.
- So?
- That's me in slo-mo.
Put a Black & Decker drill on the end,
and I can make it through walls, boy!
Listy, what are you doing up?
Shouldn't you be in the greenhouse
with the rest of the cantaloupes?
- Who started the RP?
- He did.
You simple-minded gimboid.
Didn't I tell you to leave this to me?
Look, what's the problem?
She's in there, let's get her out.
The problem, Pussy Cat Willum,
is this capsule was ejected from a prison ship
a prison ship on which the convicts mutinied.
There was a pitched battle with only two survivors:
one prisoner, one guard - the erstwhile Ms Bellini.
One of those two got into this pod and escaped.
But, of course, you'll know all of this having familiarised
yourself thoroughly with the black box recording.
- So, if it's not Bellini in there, then who is it?
- One of the prisoners.
And considering
that ship was transporting 40 psychotic,
half-crazed, mass-murdering, super-strong androids,
we thought it prudent to find out who the
smeg was in there before we woke them up!
With respect, sir, they're not androids.
- They're simulants.
- What's the difference?
Well, the basic difference is that an android would never rip off a human's head and spit down his neck.
- Can we stop it, Hol?
- What? Oh, no. One-way process.
Well, can't we find out who's
in there by X-raying the pod?
No. Lead lining. Has to
survive in space, dunnit?
- There must be some way of finding out.
- Well, there is.
All we have to do is hang around here for 24 hours.
Then, if you find your limbs scattered around
deep space and your neck full of saliva.
You can take it as read, it probably wasn't Babs.
Why not tool up with bazookoids,
wait for the pod to open,
and if it's one of these bad-ass
android dudes, let it eat laser?
Simulants are virtually indestructible, sir.
It could easily withstand a volley of bazookoid
fire at close range with only minimal damage.
It would certainly survive long enough to make
balloon animals out of your lower intestines.
Well, I see no other option.
Let's blast it back into space.
Hang on! Say it isn't the simulant?
You can't just shoot an innocent woman into space.
What a dilemma!
Inside this pod is either death or a date.
Personally, I'm prepared to take the risk.
Meanwhile, the pod is defrosting, and
we haven't decided what to do. Holly, any ideas?
Right. Here's a
possibility: the black box.
Contains the coordinates of the penal
colony the prison ship was heading for.
- So?
- Well, there's bound to be facilities there
to contain any hostile life form.
If it's turns out to be Bellini, we release her.
If it's the simulant, we can bung him in the cell and leave him to rot.
IF the colony's still there, and IF it's still operational.
There's an old android saying which I believe
has particular relevance here it goes like this:
"If you don't gosub a program loop,
you'll never get a subroutine."
Yeah, we have a human expression which is pretty similar:
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained."
Oh no, I think the android one is punchier.
- Do you have to sit up here?
- It's warmer in the front. It helps my gunge.
I can't see anything, your head keeps getting in the way of the mirror.
In fact, it keeps getting in the way of the windscreen.
Next! Ah, now, this one...
We reached this beauty on the
evening of the fourth day.
The Cameron Mackintosh
40-valve air-cooled diesel. The 184.
Almost identical to the 179,
but have you noticed the difference?
See the refinement in the funnel edges?
I thought we're never get another chance to see one of these
so we bivouacked down for the night under the fuel pump.
There's a funny story about that, which I'll tell you later
but we're not going to get to any of the
class fives unless we push along. Next!
- Ah! Another favourite.
- Sir, can we take a break for a while?
It appears my intelligence circuits have melted.
We're not going to get through them all, Kryten, if we take a second break...
Sir, that's a gamble I'm willing to take.
Now, the class 40s, the first twin...
(SQUELCH)
Oh, my God!
His head burst!
That is better. That is so much better. I feel good!
Talk about a weight off your mind.
I don't want to live!
Someone, please... shoot me in the head!
- (LISTER) Is there anything down there, Hol?
- No life forms, not according to the heat scan.
- Any mechanical intelligence?
- Yeah, mainframe's still operational.
Just initiating interface...
Hang about. Here we go.
Getting a message.
(JUSTICE COMPUTER) Welcome to Justice World,
Please state your clearance code
and prison officer ident.
We're not a prison ship. We don't have a clearance
code. We just want to use your facilities.
- State life form inventory.
- Four.
One hologram, one mechanoid, two humanoid.
- Transfer ship navicomp to my jurisdiction.
- OK, guys.
On landing, please disembark and proceed
through the neutral area to the clearance zone.
Until you are granted a clearance code,
please observe all security requirements.
Your party will be met
by a consignment of escort boots.
Please step into the boots.
I'm supposed to wear these?!
These look like Frankenstein's hand-me-downs.
Haven't you got anything
with a Cuban heel or a crepe sole?
- I can't wear these. I'm a hologram.
- That has been accounted for.
(BOOTS WHIRR)
Now what?
(ELECTRONIC PULSE)
- Oh, God! What's this?
- Relax, sir. It's just a mind probe.
- Hang on a minute, what's a mind probe?
- The computer was just searching our minds,
presumably for any evidence of criminal activity, sir.
What do you mean, "criminal activity"?
I wouldn't worry about it, sir.
It's just a routine clearance procedure.
Yeah, yeah, but when you say "criminal activity",
what do you mean by "criminal activity"?
- I mean, how criminal do you mean by "criminal"?
- What are you bleating on about, Lister?
Just define "criminal activity" for me, that's all!
Well, imagine a situation where someone had
committed a crime and concealed it from the law,
the mind probe would be able to uncover that
crime and sentence that person accordingly.
Why did no one tell me this
before I put the smegging boots on?
Oh, Listy, Listy. Is that a small sewage plant
you're carrying in your trousers...
..or I detect you're a tad concerned?
Well, come on, guys. Everyone's done something
in their past that's been a little bit illegal.
- I haven't. I never so much as got a parking ticket.
- Oh, smeggin' hell!
- What did you do?
- Well, like scrumping.
When I was a kid back in Liverpool,
we used to always go scrumping.
Oh, Stealing apples?
That's hardly a crime, sir.
Yeah, but me and me mates,
we used to go scrumping for cars.
- Did you get caught?
- All the time, I was stupid.
Oh, there's no problem then, you've
already served your punishment.
There were other things as a kid, though.
Things that I didn't get caught for.
- Like what?
- Well, there was this one time at this hotel...
Oh, lots of people take towels from hotels, sir.
I took the bed.
I winched it out the
window to me mates outside.
I was renting this flat, you
see. It was unfurnished.
- You mean to say you went to a hotel and stole the bed?!
- I stole the entire room.
Absolutely despicable. You're a common thief.
I'm not making excuses,
but everyone was doing it.
I wasn't strong enough
to go against the flow.
- I would not like to be in your boots right now, buddy!
- Why? What do you think's going to happen to me?
Oh, don't worry about it, sir. I'm sure they're not
going to be interested in some minor misdemeanour
you committed as an adolescent
over three million years ago.
- Seriously, Kryten, do you reckon?
- Boy, I'm really getting the hang of this lie mode
That was totally convincing, wasn't it?
(JUSTICE COMPUTER)
The mechanoid Kryten - clearance granted.
You may go freely about the complex.
The creature known as Cat - clearance granted.
Oooooooooowwww!
Hey, I hear they do good bread and water here, buddy.
The human known as Lister -
despite a number of petty criminal acts -
clearance granted.
The hologram known as Rimmer -
guilty of second-degree murder, 1,167 counts.
No. There must be some mistake, surely?
Each count carries a statutory penalty
of eight years' penal servitude.
In the light of your hologrammatic status,
these sentences are to be served consecutively,
making a total sentence of 9,328 years.
I've never so much as returned a library book late!
Second-degree murder?
A thousand people?
I would have remembered!
Your wilful negligence
in failing to reseal a drive plate
resulted in the deaths of the entire crew
of the Jupiter Mining Corporation vessel
the Red Dwarf.
Oh, that.
Sentence to commence immediately.
You are now leaving the neutral area
and entering the Justice Zone.
Beyond this point,
it is impossible to commit any act of injustice.
(RIMMER) Help!
Hi, killer.
- Nine thousand years. Nine!
- I brought you a book.
Oh, thanks. That'll really help the centuries fly past.
Don't panic, man. We're gonna get you out of here.
Why bother? I'll be up for parole
in another couple of ice ages.
Look, Kryten reckons you've got the Right of Appeal.
He's trying to put a case together right now.
This isn't a bad place for a prison. How come
there are no locks or bars or guards or anything?
There doesn't need to be. The whole prison complex is
covered by something called the Justice Field.
I had to sit through this tedious lecture.
Apparently, it's physically impossible
to commit any sort of crime here.
- What do you mean?
- Just try and commit a crime. You'll see.
- Well, like what?
- I don't know. Anything.
Arson. Try and set fire to those sheets.
- OK.
- Go on. Try it.
Whatever crime you try and commit,
the consequences happen to you.
Smeggin' hell!
Nice example, Rimmer! Nice example!
You could have just
explained that to me verbally.
It's the same with stealing. Same with everything.
Right, I'm with you. So if you nick something,
something of yours goes missing, yeah?
Right. Try it.
- No.
- You see? It's the perfect system.
It forces the inmates
to adhere to the law.
Once they get out, it's
become second nature.
Good news.
The justice computer has sanctioned a retrial.
I think we have a very strong case.
You do? It's simply a question of differentiating
between guilt and culpability, sir.
What the mind probe detected was
your own sense of guilt about the accident.
In a way, you tried and convicted yourself.
I simply have to establish that you're
a neurotic, under-achieving emotional retard
whose ambition far outstrips his miniscule ability
and consequently blames himself for an accident
for which he could not possibly have been responsible.
You're going to prove that I was innocent of negligence
on the grounds that I'm a halfwitted incompetent?
Man, there ain't a jury in the land
that wouldn't buy a plea like that!
Well, no. Not a halfwit, exactly... more a buffoon.
But how would you begin to build such a case?
Where would you conjur up the evidence?
Sir, providing I can have complete
free access to your personal data files,
I think I can come up with the outline of
a winning case by... lunchtime?
(KRYTEN) The mind probe
was created to detect guilt,
yet in the case of Arnold Judas Rimmer,
the guilt it detected attaches to no crime.
He held a position of little or
no importance on Red Dwarf.
He was a lowly grease monkey, a zero, a nothing,
a piece of sputum floating in the toilet bowl of life.
Yet he could never come to terms
with a lifetime of underachievement.
His absurdly inflated ego would never permit it.
He's like the security guard on the front gate
who considers himself head of the corporation.
So when the crew were wiped out
by a nuclear accident,
Arnold Rimmer accepted the blame.
It was his ship, ergo his fault.
I ask the court - look at this man,
this man who sat and failed
his astronavigation exam on 13 occasions.
This sad man, this pathetic man,
this joke of a man...
Kryten. You're going over the
top, the court will never buy it.
Sir, trust me. My whole case
hinges on proving you're a dork.
Understood.
I call my first witness.
- Name?
- Dave Lister.
Occupation?
Er, Bum.
Would you describe the accused as a friend?
- Take the Fifth!
- Now, please answer the question.
Remember, you are under polygraphic surveillance.
Would you describe the accused as a friend?
No, I'd describe the accused as a git.
Who would you say then, is the person who thinks of him most fondly?
I do.
And are there no others who have
shared moments of intimacy with him?
Only one, but she's got a puncture.
Objection!
- (COMPUTER) Overruled.
- So you wouldn't describe him as a man with a good social life?
No. He partied less than Rudolf Hess.
He was totally dedicated to his career.
He was in charge of Z shift, you see,
and it occupied his every waking moment.
And what was Z shift's most important duty?
Well, we had a lot of important duties on the
ship but I guess our most vital responsibility
was making sure the vending machines
didn't run out of fun-size Crunchie bars.
Can you ever envisage a situation where
the lack of honeycomb-centred chocolate bars
might be the direct cause
of a lethal radiation leak?
Not off the top of my head, no.
You may sit down.
I ask the court one key question -
would the Space Corps ever
have allowed this man to be in a position of authority
where he might endanger the entire crew?
A man so petty and small-minded, he would
while away his evenings sewing name labels
onto his ship-issue condoms.
- A man of such awesome stupidity...
- Objection!
- Objection overruled.
- A man of such awesome stupidity,
he even objects to his own defence counsel.
An over-zealous, trumped up little squirt...
- Objection!
- Overruled.
An incompetent vending machine repairman
with a Napoleon complex
who commanded as much respect and affection
from his fellow crew members as Long John Silver's parrot.
Objection!
If you object to your own counsel once more,
Mr Rimmer, you'll be in contempt.
Who would permit this man, this joke of a man,
this man who could not outwit a used tea bag,
to be in a position where he
might endanger the entire crew?
Who? Only a yogurt.
This man is not guilty of manslaughter.
He is only guilty of being Arnold J Rimmer.
That is his crime. It is also his punishment.
The defence rests.
The verdict on the defendant will now be passed.
In view of your counsel's eloquent defence,
together with the reams of material
evidence he submitted on computer card.
this court accepts that, in your case,
the mind probe is not an adequate method
of ascertaining guilt.
It is not possible for you to have committed
the crimes for which you blame yourself
and you may therefore go free.
- Objection!
- Sir, what are you objecting to now?
I want an apology.
Brilliant, Kryten!
What can I say? You were brilliant.
You even had me believing it. The way you
twisted the facts to make them fit this pattern.
Come on, let's get out of here. I don't know what
made us want to come to this hellhole in the first place.
- I do.
- Hmm... Can I smell perfume?
- (GROWLS) I doubt it.
- Are you by any chance Barbra Bellini?
I didn't think so!
Ere! What's going on?! Oh!
(CAT) Ugh! To think I caressed his pod!
You are now entering the Justice Zone.
Beyond this point, it is impossible
to commit any act of injustice.
You are now entering the Justice Zone.
Beyond this point, it is impossible
to commit any act of injustice.
(METAL CLINKS)
Hey, my friends... I don't want any trouble.
I just want your spacecraft.
Give me the start-up code.
Look. I have no weapon.
What are you waiting for? Gloop him.
I can't. He's not armed.
Lister, this is not a Scout meeting. We're not trying to win Best Behaved Troop flag. Gloop him.
- What? In the back?
- Of course in the back!
It's only a pity he's awake.
You mean you could happily
kill him if he was asleep?
I could happily kill him if he
was on the job. Gloop him.
It's immoral.
Come on, my friends.
You wouldn't shoot an unarmed droid.
Come out and let's discuss it.
I'm gonna go and talk to him.
You wanna talk? Let's talk.
- You have no weapons?
- No.
You have no weapon?
No.
Guess what.
I lied.
Guess what.
So did I.
But I lied...twice.
- I didn't think of that.
- I'm very glad you didn't.
- What do you want to talk about?
- Your death.
Your... imminent death.
Oh...
What the smeg is going on?!
Ugh!
(BUZZING)
- Yo, matey. Hit me on the head with this.
- Malfunction. Does not compute.
Mal...function. Mal...function.
(CHOKING)
I got him, buddy! Leave this to me!
Cat, no! No!
Better late than never.
(LAUGHS)
Makes you think though, doesn't it? I mean Mankind's
history has been one long search for justice.
That's what all
religions are about.
I mean, they accept life
as being basically unfair,
but promise that everyone
will get their just desserts later -
heaven, hell, karma,
reincarnation, whatever.
Those guys that built that
penal colony. They tried to bring
some order to the universe
by creating the Justice Field,
but when you live in an environment where justice does exist,
you have no free will.
That's why in our universe, you can never have true natural justice. guy.
Good things will happen to
bad people
and bad things will happen to good people.
It's the way it's going to be.
Life by its very nature has to be cruel, unkind
and unfaaaaaair...!
Thank God for that.
# It's cold outside, there's no kind of atmosphere
# I'm all alone, more or less
# Let me fly far away from here
# Fun, fun, fun
# In the sun, sun, sun
# I want to lie shipwrecked and comatose
# Drinking fresh mango juice
# Goldfish shoals nibbling at my toes
# Fun, fun, fun
# In the sun, sun, sun
# Fun, fun, fun
# In the sun, sun, sun #
